


Through Another's Eyes

by CorsairOriginal



Series: Days of Advent [2]
Category: Before Crisis: Final Fantasy VII, Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020), On The Way To A Smile: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Creepy Hojo (Compilation of FFVII), Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Illustrations, Kalm (Compilation of FFVII), Meteor, Midgar (Compilation of FFVII), Minor Reno/Rude (Compilation of FFVII), Reno (Compilation of FFVII) Being An Asshole, Rufus Shinra Being An Asshole, Seasickness, Shinra Company, The Lifestream (Compilation of FFVII), the Highwind - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:15:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 49,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24556777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorsairOriginal/pseuds/CorsairOriginal
Summary: Elmyra Gainsborough had only wanted to live a life in peace, but war keeps coming to her door. She had only wanted her arrangement with Marlene Wallace to be temporary, but now that she's a part of Elmyra's life she has to face the consequences of that decision. Director Reeve Tuesti didn't choose to become a spy, but orders from President Rufus Shinra are not to be refused. He didn't choose to admire a group of renegades, but now that they're a part of his life he can't walk away so easily.~"Through Another's Eyes" is an in-depth view of the major notes of Reeve's story in Final Fantasy VII, starting from Marlene's abduction by Shinra to the end of the original game--rewriting some concepts and adding elements from the Compilation of FF7, including Before Crisis and FFVII Remake.Hope everyone enjoys a guilt-ridden robotics engineer as much as I do. Any illustrations are done by me unless credited otherwise.
Series: Days of Advent [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1903474
Comments: 122
Kudos: 84





	1. The House in Kalm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elmyra Gainsborough has had enough of Midgar. With her daughter finally seeing more of Gaia, she can concentrate on taking care of Marlene Wallace. Unexpected visitors and a stranger change the course of both Marlene and Elmyra's lives for good.

Elmyra Gainsborough had never raised a toddler. She had taken in her daughter Aerith closer to eight years old, and therefore had never dealt with the least appealing stages of motherhood. She had never thought she was less skilled or somehow beneath other mothers, but there was no denying that raising Aerith was nothing like taking care of a toddler like Marlene. According to other parents Elmyra had known, Aerith had been nothing like other children even on her worst days. It was only on a regular basis recently that Elmyra thought of Aerith’s relative ease compared to the cackling toddler currently running through the first floor. Marlene’s excited screeching rang through the house as Elmyra let out a weary sigh.

“Marlene!” Elmyra snapped from Aerith’s room, pausing in packing a box to push stray strands away from her sweat-dotted forehead. “I said don’t play with that ball inside.”

“But I’m not!” Marlene blurted, shortly before something bounced on the floor and knocked into the kitchen table.

In frustration Elmyra’s brow tightened. How could toddlers lie the way they did? Just so naturally and without the slightest hesitation? Again Elmyra was reminded of her daughter, who had never lied so easily—actually, she had never really tried. “Please take it outside, Marlene. I’m trying to pack.”

“Okay!”

“Don’t go anywhere other than the gardens,” she called, recalling it was nearly sunset.

“Okay!”

“And be careful of the flowers—!” Elmyra was unable to finish her last warning as the front door was noisily thrown open and slammed closed again, Marlene’s excited laughter trailing toward the gardens. 

This was all a temporary arrangement, but if she was honest with herself it was all worth any minor annoyances.

Putting the last of Aerith’s old picture books (padded with stuffed animals) in the box, Elmyra taped it shut. With a soft sigh Elmyra stood and shook out her dress. She hefted the box and trotted down the stairs, setting this newest one next to the others. She folded her arms around her midsection and glanced over the parlor, feeling another pang of anxiety. No matter how unsafe Midgar had become, it was going to be heartbreaking to leave it all behind. There were so many memories in this house…

As Elmyra turned to ascend the stairs again, she paused as she noted footsteps nearing the front door. Hopefully that was Mrs. Sun: One of the other families down the road had agreed to trade some of Aerith’s old clothes for some that her daughters had outgrown but would fit Marlene. Again adjusting her rusty-blonde bangs away from her forehead, Elmyra wiped her hands on her apron and made it to the door as a firm knock rang out.

She opened the door, and her friendly smile immediately vanished. Elmyra knew the men on her porch too well, and she glared between the scarecrow of a man with violently-red, spiked hair, and his statuesque partner with a shaved head and thin beard. “Reno. Rude,” she greeted in an icy voice.

“Evening, ma’am,” Reno said with his characteristic grin, tapping the baton she had never seen him without on his shoulder idly.

While it was impossible to follow Rude’s eyes through his sunglasses, a slight tilt of his head suggested he was studying the changes in the parlor. “Going somewhere, Mrs. Gainsborough?”

Elmyra had managed politeness with the Turks throughout her time with Aerith, but she no longer found the need. Aerith was no longer at home, and Elmyra had chosen to believe AVALANCHE on the matter of the Turk’s activities. It was difficult to feign politeness with people who committed mass murder. “I don’t see how it’s your business anymore. You’ve done enough to my family. And I’m afraid Aerith isn’t here. Last _I_ understood, you already knew that.” She added in a firm growl, “Leave.”

Reno let out a long whistle, his blue eyes rolling as he craned his head to glance through the doorway. “Well, _shit_ Rude, we pissed off her ma. Better go, then.”

As Reno spun and strolled down the porch steps, his head swiveling to scrutinize the gardens, Rude did little more than adjust his glasses. Anxiously, Elmyra planted herself in the doorway, taking a deep breath as she noted the figures on the path leading to her porch. Three Shinra soldiers stood awaiting orders, their menacing grins visible under their visors—and threatening rifles at the ready.

“Please leave, Rude,” Elmyra repeated, her voice only as loud as her courage would allow. It was barely a breath above a whisper.

After a tense pause, Rude subtly shook his head. “I’m afraid we’re not here for Aerith, ma’am.”

Elmyra’s mouth fell open slightly in confusion. She was unable to ask for clarification before her stomach lurched and her eyes widened in realization. _“Run!”_ she screamed toward the garden. “Marlene, run! Please—!”

Rude’s hands gripped Elmyra’s wrists and she let out a cry of surprise. It was the first time any of the Turks had laid a hand on her. Never had she wanted to know how strong a Turk was—Rude’s hold was like iron as Elmyra struggled uselessly. Effortlessly, he yanked her forward, and she staggered down the steps. She nearly tripped, but Rude pulled her to her feet. 

“You can’t do this!” she howled. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Harboring terrorists is illegal,” Rude said coldly, shoving her forward. The three soldiers adjusted their holds on their rifles, their three-eyed helmets staring Elmyra down eerily.

A shrill screech from the flower garden brought Elmyra’s fight back to her, struggling against Rude’s hold. “Marlene! Marlene!” she shrieked. “She’s just a child, she hasn’t _done anything._ Please—!”

Sobbing neared as Reno sauntered closer, Marlene’s kicking and flailing form propped over his shoulder. “Well, her daddy’s done more than enough, yeah? Don’t make this harder on yourself.”

“You bastards!” Elmyra screamed, trying to stomp on Rude’s feet and desperately reach for the weeping child. “Leave us alone, _leave my family alone!”_

One of the soldiers raised the butt of his rifle. “Stop resisting and shut up—”

 _“Enough!”_ a new voice shouted, causing the soldier to pause.

From behind Reno a man in a suit joined the group. His dark eyes were soft as they looked into Elmyra’s, his calm caused her to relax by degrees. He wasn’t a Turk, his extremely well-tailored, dark-navy suit wasn’t made to endure their kind of dirty work. The fact that a soldier had stood down spoke of this man being high-ranking—more so that Rude had straightened and his grip on Elmyra had eased slightly.

He looked to Reno with a hard frown, the movement of his lips followed by his black, trimmed beard. “Let Mrs. Gainsborough hold Marlene, please.”

While Marlene still kicked and wailed, Reno raised a red eyebrow doubtfully.

The man in his thirties sighed and ran a hand through his slicked-back, black hair, giving a sympathetic look to Elmyra. “You won’t resist anymore, will you?”

Timidly, she glanced over her shoulder at Rude, and then at the soldiers. She shook her head gently. “Please let me hold her,” she whispered. “She’s scared.”

Reno clicked his tongue loudly. “Sure, sure. Whatever you say, Mr. _Director-sir.”_ He stepped up to Elmyra, and Rude allowed this to be a signal to release his hold. 

With trembling arms, Elmyra took Marlene and held her closely. She patted the back of her soft, brown hair as the girl sloppily sobbed into her shoulder. “Thank you,” Elmyra whispered, resigned.

The director held up a flower from Aerith’s garden up to Elmyra and Marlene, but Elmyra made no movement to accept it. She held Marlene closer, her eyes thinning at this man. He hadn’t had any form of permission to touch her daughter’s flowers, and she wasn’t going to be grateful for the theft and regifting.

Seeing her reaction, the director nodded subtly and slipped the flower into his lapel. “That’s fair. Let’s go.”

A Shinra helicopter was parked in the vacant lot nearby. Elmyra wasn’t aware Rude knew how to fly them, but he took the pilot seat by rote. Reno slipped into the front passenger seat, sinking into his chair. The Shinra director stepped into the back as the vehicle started, and the soldiers helped Elmyra after him. As the helicopter shuddered and rose, Marlene began to relax little by little. Elmyra whispered for her to be brave, forcing a smile as she used her apron to wipe tears and snot from the girl’s face. 

While no one addressed Elmyra and Marlene directly, the trip was hardly silent. The roar of the engines and the blades whirred around them and the cabin jostled noisily. While Elmyra could hear none of it, Reno was speaking to Rude as though the situation was dreadfully mundane, and the soldiers muttered to each other in low voices. The director, on the other hand, said nothing. His eyes stared out the window, but seemed to look much, much further away. Occasionally his lips would part in silent whispers, and he would raise his hand to rest it on an earpiece. He would also break his silence to answer a phone, having terse conversations about what sounded like ordinary office matters.

How anyone could be so utterly detached was beyond Elmyra.

* * *

The helicopter landed outside of Midgar, where a truck sat waiting. The soldiers remained, but the director and the Turks herded Elmyra and Marlene into the vehicle. Elmyra asked no questions, despite the many that Marlene had now. After having cried herself to sleep and waking back up again she was alert and curious.

“Where are we going?” she whispered loudly to Elmyra, looking out over the darkened plains that the truck rolled across.

“I don’t know,” she whispered back. If Elmyra was in fact being arrested, surely they would have gone straight to the Shinra building. There was nothing noteworthy in the direction they were going away from Midgar, just the town of Kalm.

The director sitting across from them frowned to himself, his knee starting to fidget anxiously. Although his eyes still looked miles away, they shifted as he grimaced at nothing.

Marlene looked up at Elmyra. “What’s wrong with him?” she whispered in a voice still too loud for an actual whisper.

Elmyra raised a finger to her lips and shook her head. The last thing Marlene needed to do was make herself more noticeable. “Don’t bother him.”

All three of them flinched as the director’s phone rang. He took a deep breath to steady himself and pulled it out. “Tseng.”

Elmyra instinctively pressed Marlene’s head further into her shoulder. That was not a name she was happy to hear.

“Do you have it?” was the reply on the phone.

“Yes. But, Tseng, he saw me.”

A pause, then Tseng’s voice asked, “Who saw you?”

“Cloud saw me,” the director said uneasily, his eyes staring straight through Marlene and Elmyra. “I don’t know what to do, please tell me you’re close.”

In confusion Elmyra glanced through the mirrored windows, seeing nothing but empty, darkened plains around the truck. Marlene sat up straighter and looked with her, seemingly enamored with the show of bewilderment more than anything. 

“We’re almost there,” Tseng replied. “The closest we can get is the station for the chocobo tracks. Get there.”

Clearing his throat softly, the director winced. “I can’t shake him.”

As cold as always, Tseng’s voice answered, “If our spy has outlived its usefulness, then so be it. Just get this job finished and be done with it.”

The director clasped his eyes shut and grit his teeth. “…Fine. I’m hurrying.”

Unceremoniously, Tseng hung up. The director kept his eyes closed a few moments, his brow tightening in visible pain. A heavy sigh of resignation shook his shoulders, and after a moment longer his eyes opened again. For the first time since leaving Midgar he looked— _genuinely_ looked—to Elmyra and Marlene, staring directly into Marlene’s inquisitive eyes. He eased forward and reached into the inside pocket of his suit coat.

Defensively, Elmyra held Marlene tighter.

The director produced a small device from his pocket and held his phone beside it. The phone beeped, its screen lighting up. Through it voices and music could be heard over the din of some public, open space somewhere. In a low, gentle voice the director said, “Marlene…who would you love to talk to more than _anyone_ right now?”

Marlene immediately leaned forward, her eyes bright in hope. “Daddy? Daddy! Tifa!”

“Hey,” a voice rose over the phone, eliciting an audible gasp from Elmyra. “That’s Marlene!”

It was Aerith’s voice. 

“Hey!” Marlene blurted, her hands reaching for the devices. “It’s the flower lady! Flower lady—”

The voices on the phone cut off and it went dark, and the director silently slipped the device back into his coat.

“—h-help…I wanna talk to Daddy…” Marlene whimpered, her lip quivering as tears welled in her eyes. “Where’s Daddy?”

“That was my daughter,” Elmyra hissed, her eyes burning as well. “You son of a bitch, how dare you. How dare you—what is _wrong_ with you?! What have you done to her?”

Tiredly, he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Nothing. Aerith is fine.”

Marlene was inconsolable, falling back into wailing sobs as she sank into Elmyra. Hearing Marlene’s crying pushed Elmyra to tears as well, and she clung to the child tightly. “You monsters…” she hissed between trembling breaths.

Glass separating the driver’s side from the passengers’ slid low enough for Reno to stretch his arm through and thump his baton against the truck’s ceiling. “Shut _up._ Holy shit, some of us are trying to _sleep!”_

“You’re fine, Reno,” the director sighed, rubbing his face. “Let them cry. They deserve that much.”

* * *

The truck at last came to a stop in Kalm, on a side street off of the main square. Marlene had again cried herself to sleep, so only draped limply against Elmyra as Rude opened the door for them. Drained, Elmyra stepped out of the car and glanced at the streets of row houses, and the tall one before them topped with a quaint, tower-like structure. Due to the lateness of the hour it was difficult to tell the color of the home with its wooden accents and layers of stone.

The director jogged up to the front door and unlocked it, turning on a light inside before looking back at the Turks. “Please wait out here, gentlemen.”

“Strictly speaking,” Reno yawned out, flipping his long ponytail over his shoulder. “We’re not supposed to just let a board director or—gee, I dunno, _hostages_ —wander around without an escort.”

“We’ll be inside, you’ll be here watching the door,” the director insisted. “You’ll be doing your job just fine.”

Rude and Reno looked to each other, and with a roll of his eyes Reno waved them on. “Fine.”

As Elmyra stepped into the home, Marlene yawned largely and rubbed her eyes. The parlor was warm and welcoming in soothing, golden woods and flower-patterned curtains hanging in the windows. However, it was sparsely furnished and lacking any personal touches, radiating a subtle loneliness from under layers of comfort.

At Marlene’s request, Elmyra set her down and the girl curiously trotted to the stairs in the back of the room. 

“It’s alright,” the director assured Elmyra before she could object. “Both of you are free to look around. It’s all yours, after all.”

Marlene had already started up the stairs, leaving only Elmyra to gawk at the man blankly. “I-I’m sorry?”

Idly strolling around the far wall, the director ran a finger across a shelf and studied it. He nodded approvingly. “They did some good work for a rush job…” He glanced at Elmyra and smiled wearily, then continued his leisurely walk around the parlor. “My parents insisted on not selling it when I got a home for them on the Sector 5 plate. I’m glad they didn’t now.”

Awkwardly, Elmyra adjusted her skirts and folded her arms across her chest. “…This is your home?”

“Until I was thirteen,” he said with a shrug. “It’s still my mother’s home, but I hear she has her hands full back in Midgar. She’s taken in a boy who lost ever…” He trailed off, uncomfortably clearing his throat. “Who was from Sector 7.”

Elmyra swallowed hard. “Ah.”

Pausing beside the sofa under the large window next to the front door, he slipped his hands in his pockets and gave Elmyra a small smile. “I’ll be getting movers for the rest of your things. The last thing I suppose I should ask is…is if you want me to move any of Aerith’s flowers.”

Blinking at him in disbelief, she scoffed, “Excuse me?”

“I admit,” he said with another shrug. “There’s not much room for it, but with enough planters we can make it work.” He plucked the flower from his lapel and again held it out to Elmyra. “They aren’t looking as good without her there, are they?”

Her face softening, Elmyra took the bloom and held it closely to her chest. “…No, they’re not. Almost the second she left…” She shook her head and placed a hand to her forehead. “I don’t…I don’t understand. What are you doing? Are Marlene and I…hostages? But you’re giving us this house?”

Thumping caused both of them to turn toward the stairs. Marlene shyly peered between the railing, a large, plush black cat dangling from her arms.

Chuckling, the director walked toward the foot of the stairs and knelt low. “I see you already found my friend.”

Marlene sat on the final step, holding the plush close. Very calmly the director reached for the stuffed cat and titled its head up, looking into its smiling face. With gentle movements he adjusted the tiny crown propped between its large ears and gave its head a soft pat. “This is a very old friend of mine. I think I was…fifteen when I made him. First one…” he mused in a soothing voice. “This is Cait Sith.”

“‘Ket shee’?” she repeated.

He nodded. “That’s right. Say hello, Cait.” He reached back to the doll and eased it to face Marlene in her arms. “‘And, hello, lass!’” he chirped in possibly the thickest Highland accent Elmyra had ever heard, causing a surprised giggle to tumble out of her. 

“‘It’s a fine pleasure to meet ya,’” the director continued for the plush. “‘Don’t worry aboot a thing. Aye’ll always look out for ya, Miss Marlene. I promise.’”

Marlene laughed and happily squeezed the plush. “Thanks, Cait.”

“He’s a good friend to have,” the director said. “He’s loyal…he’ll never lie to you…” he added, his face falling sadly.

“I’m gonna take Cait Sith upstairs,” Marlene said firmly, then hopped back up the stairs.

A silence fell as the director watched Marlene disappear. Slowly, Elmyra approached him, anxiously twirling the flower’s stem between her fingers. “Who…Who are you?”

He stood, straightening his suit coat. “Reeve Tuesti. Director of Urban Planning and Development. Reeve is fine.”

“Why would…Why would a Shinra board member care about us?”

“…Because I’m a son of a bitch and I needed you both as leverage for personal gain,” he said.

Elmyra frowned. “…Are you _judging_ me for resenting this arrangement? Or threatening my daughter?”

“No,” he said. “It’s a perfectly natural response. And I am a monster.”

In frustration Elmyra rubbed her face. “You’re…not. I don’t know what you are, but I don’t think you’re a monster.”

“I am holding you hostage, and earlier was absolutely kidnapping.”

“But you…Are you protecting us?” she asked gently.

Scratching above his eyebrow, Reeve sighed. “I can’t…presume to give the Turks orders. If they’re told to do something I can’t stop them. But someone of my position can make requests for some…allowances.”

“Like shuffling us out of Midgar into a home and offering to move my daughter’s gardens?”

A weary smile crossed his lips. “And making sure Marlene isn’t taken one step closer to headquarters, yes.” Rubbing the back of his head, he glanced at the floorboards. “You’ll still be monitored, you won’t be allowed to leave the city limits. But it’s better than whatever some of my fellow board members would have done. I know that’s not saying much.”

“It’s…It’s more kindness than anyone from Shinra has ever given my family.”

“That’s not saying much.”

“No, no it’s not,” she laughed coldly. “But…thank you. Thank you for this. This…This isn’t actually about Aerith, is it?” she added. “Is this about Mr. Wallace?”

Reeve frowned. “I…can’t say I _like_ Marlene’s father. He’s done _very_ terrible things. But I have a certain respect for him, and I appreciate what he…at least, what he _thinks_ he’s trying to do. But I will say…” He walked up to Elmyra and gingerly touched the petals of the flower she held. “I would do just about _anything_ for your daughter. If there is anyone on this planet who deserves someone fighting for them, it’s her. I will not let anything happen to you or Marlene. For her.”

A smile spread across Elmyra’s face and she firmly took his hand in hers. “Thank you. Thank you, Director.”

Startled by her touch, he fumbled out, “R-Reeve is fine.”

Elmyra tilted her head slightly. “Are you not used to thanks?”

He eased his hands away from hers as a distant formality returned. “It’s just not necessary. Please.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While in the original game it's unclear how Reeve controls Cait Sith, a good deal of hints are added in Before Crisis. Using both games I think I've come up with a fairly accurate interpretation of what watching Reeve piloting Cait Sith must look like.
> 
> Elmyra is so *normal,* and I really wanted to push that.  
>   
> 


	2. Fairy Catparent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Traveling the world to save it from iron-fisted, world-destroying corporations and murderous, former super-soldiers means that Barret Wallace will be absent from his daughter's 5th birthday. While hardly a replacement, Director (and technically hostage taker?) Reeve Tuesti has earned enough good will with Elmyra Gainsborough and Marlene Wallace that he is more than welcome, and has a surprise ready for the occasion.

In between meetings the ringtone Reeve had assigned for Elmyra Gainsborough rang from his personal phone. He pulled it out and set the phone on its dock, pleased with himself that Elmyra had accepted the one he’d offered her and had no trouble using it. (Her own had been confiscated. This replacement phone was still being monitored for any possible contacts to AVALANCHE…but it was certainly better than nothing.) She more than likely had no idea how few people he ever gave his personal number to.

“Hello, Elmyra,” Reeve greeted as he continued to shuffle through spreadsheets on his desktop.

“I’m glad I caught you,” she answered. “I wanted you to know the contractors got done with the planters on the top floor, finally. The outside of the house is incredible.”

It was somewhat refreshing to be kept abreast of the most mundane matters, considering the mystifying deluge of insanity he spied on and the dancing horror show of the Shinra boardroom. “Perfect, I was wondering how it was going. My assistant sent along information about the school, did you get it?”

A pause followed and she cleared her throat. “Yes, I got it. I suppose I just keep hoping this won’t be much longer and I won’t have to make that kind of decision on Mr. Wallace’s behalf.”

“Marlene’s almost five,” Reeve reminded her. “She can’t keep waiting for things to go back to normal.” Nothing was ever going to be normal again. Reeve could sympathize with that. “It’s an excellent school. It was thanks to them I was designing for Shinra by seventeen.” 

“Speaking of almost five…” Elmyra began gently.

A rare smile tugged at the side of Reeve’s face. “I assume you have a head count?”

“Marlene’s already made so many friends,” she laughed. “It looks like there will be six—seven including me. Hopefully nine if you and Barret…?”

Reeve blinked in surprise. While asking about Marlene’s father was hardly unexpected… “I…I hope you understand it’s still not safe for her father to be there. He’s also…in the middle of something important.” 

Hopefully, all of them would find Aerith soon and Reeve would never have to let Elmyra know her daughter had ever been missing.

Elmyra sighed. “I guessed. Then you…?”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Reeve leaned back in his chair. “I…I wouldn’t think I’d be invited.”

Elmyra laughed lightly. “Nonsense. Marlene won’t stop asking about you.”

Only three weeks before Reeve had left the girl a sobbing mess and now she was inviting him to her birthday party? “Well, I…”

“Do you think she doesn’t appreciate the updates on what her father is up to? She insists. She’s told half the neighborhood children about the Shinra man who makes puppets.”

“Oh.” Reeve chuckled self-consciously. “My reputation is ruined.”

“It’s impossible to fool children for long. If Barret can’t be here, please be sure you are.”

“I’ll do what I can,” he offered. “I’m a very busy man.”

Elmyra scoffed.  _ “Make _ time. I’m not so dull I can’t notice when someone needs to get away from work.”

Tiredly, Reeve smiled. “Then I suppose I’ll have to bring the cake in person.”

* * *

Reeve hadn’t been prepared for the decibels six four and five-year olds could reach. As he had walked in with the cake box, their collective shrieking had nearly startled him into dropping it. Thankfully, the very expensive cake covered in icing flowers and pearly-white cats of sculpted candy had made it into the parlor without tragedy striking. 

As Elmyra revealed the cake to the party-goers, Reeve greeted the other lady he was happy to see. He kissed his mother’s cheek and she pulled him in a tight hug. “The planters around the house are the loveliest thing Aye’ve ever seen, Reeve,” she said, her thin face pulled into a bright smile. 

“Glad you appreciate it.”

“Aye’ve been tryin’ for a garden at home,” she said, beaming as she sat on the sofa. “It’ll make you and Elmyra jealous, just wait.”

Reeve glanced away for a moment, clearing his throat softly. “Mom, you’re not…Midgar…isn’t really the place for flowers.”

Frowning, she folded her bony arms across her chest. “Elmyra says her daughter had no trouble at all. Aye say with enough care and enough work ya can get flowers anywhere.”

There was his mother’s stubborn streak again. “It’s…It’s hard to describe, Mom.”

“Fine, tell yer old country mouse of a mother how to do somethin’ as simple as plantin’ flowers,” she huffed. “Aye did it plenty of times before ye were born and while we lived here, Aye’ll remind you. Aye’ll just get my handsome, young tenant to help.”

At this, Reeve shook his head and chuckled. “I’m surprised he isn’t here. Is he not feeling well?”

With a scoff and a snicker, she waved the question aside. “Oh, he’s fine. Try convincin’ an eight-year-old boy to come to a five-year-old girl’s party. Denzel is watchin’ the house for me.”

“Oh?” Reeve finally eased himself beside his mother on the sofa. “Looks like I’m never going to meet this mysterious Denzel.”

“Ya will, Aye’m sure of it,” she said. “In fact, if ya gave a wee bit of time to yer mother ya  _ could _ see him  _ anytime.” _

Tiredly, Reeve half-smiled at her. “Mom…”

“Aye know, Aye know,” she sighed out melodramatically, moving her thin, grey ponytail over her shoulder. “No time. Time enough for a party of a friend’s girl and not your mother. Or to find your own lass. Or lad. Wouldn’t ye like to be hosting your own little ones’ parties by now?”

“Momma!” Reeve laughed in surprise. A twinge of the accent he’d worked so hard to get rid of started to reappear around her. “Tonight? Yer doing this tonight?”

“Aye rib ya, but…” Mother’s smile took on a sad turn as her face softened. “But it’s hard to see ya arrive alone, is all. And in only a few minutes ye’re smilin’ more than I’ve seen ya do in ages.”

His expression fell at this, and he awkwardly sighed and tapped his heel. “I’m glad you’re thinking about me, but it’s fine. Most of my energy is just in work, that’s all.” 

“It’d be nice to see ya expend a bit of that for what’s around ye, dear.”

Reeve’s attention snapped to the group of children running up to the sofa. “Mr. Toostey, Ms. Toostey!” Marlene blurted.

The butchering of their shared surname caused the two of them to laugh and give each other pained grins. “Please, ya poor thing,” his mother said through giggles. “Please just call me Ms. Ruby.”

“Uh, you know, Marlene,” Reeve offered gently. “Reeve is fine.”

“Reeve, Reeve,” Marlene said breathily, as though the sprint from the table to the sofa had exhausted her as much as her eagerness. “Show them how you make Cait dance!”

Self-consciously, Reeve held up his hands to insist to the contrary, but his voice was immediately drowned out by the chorus of pleas from the kids. 

His mother jostled Reeve’s shoulder, her eyes sparkling. “Ye’ve kept up the knack, have ya? Aye haven’t seen it in so long! Have a go.”

After a deep exhale, Reeve stood to his feet. “All right, you all win. Where is he?”

Giggling happily, Marlene darted to her chair at the table and ran back with the plush Cait Sith in her arms. She held up the doll, its head and limbs flopping with each movement. Reeve knelt in the middle of the group and helped Marlene adjust her hold on Cait so he was facing forward. Closing his eyes, Reeve focused, and let out a deep breath, a familiar sensation slithering out of him along with the air. His parents had always called it a “knack,” a kind of old folk magic that was almost completely extinct in the age of mako. It was a bit like giving a piece of himself to something, a “breath of life” that caused the puppet to shudder and wiggle in Marlene’s hands.

Gasps of wonder rose from the onlookers, and Marlene eagerly let go of Cait Sith. The doll hopped to attention on its own, taking a deep bow with a flourish. Reeve was aware of the expressions of the audience (despite his eyes still being closed) because of the temporary bond he and it now shared. 

The doll spun on its heels, and Reeve opened his eyes to see the group of children watching with dumbstruck awe. On behalf of this plush Cait, he spoke to the crowd, allowing his voice to fully affect his old accent: “‘Greetin’s and salutations to all! Ah’m Cait Sith.”’ With each word the doll waved its arms theatrically and tapped its thick-shoed feet. This was met with excited applause and squealing laughter. “‘This party is just grand! Aye  _ could _ tell yer fortunes, but Aye can already tell all o’ya have bright futures.’”

His mother’s eyes looked misty as she clapped and tittered happily, and Reeve added a warm smile in her direction.

This performance was nothing remotely as intricate as the relationship Reeve had with the Cait Sith currently across the world.  _ That _ Cait Sith had full robotics to allow for actual autonomy, and state-of-the-art equipment that enabled Cait both to speak of his own accord and to translate Reeve’s thoughts or speech into his own voice. From this cozy living room in Kalm Reeve could see with his own eyes, from the point of view of the dancing doll, and from another set of eyes among a group of renegades on a distant shore—all at once. It was slightly disorienting, but focusing on one at a time wasn’t too difficult.

In fact, sometimes it was easier to see through Cait Sith than not.

* * *

The party had wrapped up nearly an hour before, the last of the guests had been escorted home by their parents. Reeve had retreated to the top floor to set up something, and now casually walked down the steps back to the parlor. While clearly exhausted, Marlene was helping his mother and Elmyra gather the piles of discarded wrapping paper and ribbons. 

“Aye was worried ya’d sneaked off without so much as a goodbye,” his mother chided, carrying the dirty plates toward the stairs.

“Are you leaving soon?” he asked.

Tiredly, she yawned and shook her head. “Aye shouldn’t leave Denzel by himself, but it’s far too late. Aye let him know Aye’ll be back in the morning.”

“I have to leave tonight. But…not quite yet,” Reeve said gently. “There’s still something I need to do for Marlene.”

Dubious, his mother lowered an eyebrow, then continued past him up the stairs. “Hm. You know, Aye hear her father is single.”

Even the suggestion of associating Marlene’s father with romance made his lip curl in disgust.  _ “Mom!” _

“Aye rib ya, Aye rib ya,” she said with an airy laugh. 

No, Mother didn’t “rib” about Reeve’s nonexistent love life. He visualized Barret’s reaction if anyone ever suggested something like that to his face. There would likely only be a fine, red mist left of Reeve. His entire body shuddered as he pictured the sheer number of bullets…Pushing aside unpleasant thoughts, Reeve moved to Elmyra and Marlene. 

Now seated at the parlor’s table, Marlene paused playing with her new puzzle. Her large, brown eyes looked up at him inquisitively.

“Did you have a good time?” he asked gently.

“Yeah!” she cheered, raising her arms enthusiastically.

Elmyra chimed in, “Did you thank Mr. Reeve for all the new clothes?”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!”

He leaned slightly closer and held up a finger to quiet her. “There’s one more thing I want to give you.”

Bouncing in her seat, she proceeded to knock several pieces of her puzzle on the floor. “Yay!”

After plucking up the scattered cardboard, Reeve gestured to the staircase. “You have to come with me, though, this way.” He urged her out of the chair, and Marlene followed in his shadow to the top floor. The house had always had a bizarre arrangement, the kitchen being on the fourth floor, with the bedrooms between it and the parlor on the ground floor. Reeve had set up a large tablet on a stand on the kitchen table, and Marlene excitedly plopped in the chair in front of it. Giggling, her hands immediately reached for the screen.

Visions of destructive toddler hands grabbing his equipment popping into his head, Reeve quickly thrust an arm in front of it. “Wait, wait,  _ wait!” _ he blurted. “It’s not the tablet. Just wait.”

Marlene flopped back, her lips skewing in a pout.

Recollecting himself, Reeve took out a small transceiver and set it next to the screen. Reading his mental commands, the screen turned on, and a distant scene appeared on it. “No one can see or hear you,” Reeve explained gently. “But you can tell me to say something if you want, okay?” 

Marlene studied the screen curiously, and as she noted familiar faces her expression lit up in delight.

~

Half the world away, Cait Sith sat on a beach, unaffected by the chill in the evening air.

A faded-red and blue sea plane floated next to the shore, lights in its large cabin showing several figures moving around. Nearby a campfire blazed, and weary, battle-worn travelers lounged around it, passing around stories and bottles of beer. 

As Reeve’s awareness took control, Cait Sith urged its massive, pastel, plush mount to join those by the fire. With sweeping, padded steps the mooglesaurus approached, and the bittersweet conversation in progress could be heard over the sound of the ocean breeze and lapping waves.

“—I never admitted it,” a young, fimly-toned woman with long, dark-brown hair continued. She took a sip from her bottle and leaned back to stare up at the sky. “But I remade that cake  _ three times.” _

A mountain of a man laughed in a deep, booming voice. His white-toothed smile shone in contrast to his rich, mahogany skin that glowed in the firelight. “You’re shittin’ me.”

“I’m not,” she laughed back, her brassy, reddish eyes thinning with her smile. “I should not have volunteered, I should have just sucked it up and bought one. I had  _ no _ idea how hard it is to make cake.”

“Not as easy as potato skins?” another man threw in. His square, stubbled face was clearly visible only when the perpetual stream of cigarette smoke trailing from his wide grin parted.

“Don’t you even talk about her potato skins,” the largest man warned, pointing his left finger at his companion. “You ain’t tried ‘em yet.”

The smoker in a flight jacket and goggles raised his bottle eagerly. “Do I look like I don’t want any? I  _ want _ to try ‘em, I’m  _ waitin’  _ to try ‘em!”

“Anyway,” the woman said. “The first one, I don’t even know. I think I stirred too much. It was bread. Dense bread, too. The second one? The second one, I managed to  _ completely _ forget the sugar.”

Warmly, the ursine man chuckled, rubbing his eye with the same hand he held his beer with. The firelight glinted off the metal that composed his other arm. “You know, I never would’a been able to tell. Marlene loved that cake, Tifa.”

~

Marlene squealed, clapping at the scene. “Daddy! It’s Daddy, it’s Daddy! And Tifa—Hi, Tifa!” she shouted at the screen.

Reeve winced at her volume, and put a finger to his lips. “They can’t hear you, remember? Let’s just listen.”

~

Tifa shrugged sheepishly. “Johnny’s mom  _ may _ have done most of the work for that one.” 

Cid polished off his beer, then lazily tossed the bottle in a bucket sitting nearby. “Baking is too much chemistry for me. When I was a kid all I wanted was barbeque, anyway.”

“One weird-ass kid, one weird-ass, grown man,” Barret chuckled.

“If you’ve never had ribs and grilled fruit you don’t get to insult me. Just as good as cake and better, and I will die on that hill.”

Vincent had been silent through the exchange, seated at the edge of the campfire’s light. His crimson eyes shone eerily in the dark as they drifted up and his steadfast gaze locked directly on Cait Sith.

~

Marlene audibly gasped. “W-Who is that?”

“Those two men are friends of your father’s,” Reeve assured her. “That’s Vincent. The blonde man is Cid.”

“He can see me?”

“No, we’re seeing what one of my puppets is seeing. Vincent can’t see you.”

“…Vincent is scary.”

“He’s just different. He’s very kind, I promise.”

~

Vincent titled his head slightly, peering from beneath his unkempt, pitch hair, and the canvas bandanna he always wore. “I assume you think you have something to add, Cait?”

The group around the fire turned and faced Cait Sith, their expressions immediately darkening. Tifa took a long, exaggerated swig from her bottle as Cid leaned over to grab a new beer from a cooler. 

Barret only stared daggers at the intruder, his eyes burning under his hard brow. “Now is the  _ worst _ time, ya damn cat.”

~

“Be nice, Daddy. Be  _ nice.” _

“He…He has good reason to be upset,” Reeve said with a subtle shrug. “He really wishes he could be here, but he can’t.” Straightening, he then gestured largely with his hand and said, “I can’t tell you much, but I can assure you Marlene had a  _ great _ day.” The exact time Reeve spoke, Cait Sith’s heavily-accented, cheerful voice parroted his words and movements over the feed. 

The sound of both of them speaking simultaneously in such different voices caused Marlene to straighten and blink in surprise. “Hm? Is that…Is that Cait Sith?”

~

“Holy  _ shit,” _ Cid laughed caustically. “Wow. The Shinra stooge can’t read a room, what a goddamn surprise.”

Tifa scowled in Cait’s direction. “Oh, do they throw children’s parties in the Shinra building? Is that a thing?”

Holding up his large, gloved hands, Cait Sith shook his head. “No, no, no. Aye haven’t said until now, but Marlene’s nowhere near the Shinra building. She’s with Aerith’s momma still. They’re fine, better than fine!”

Gears were turning behind Barret’s gaze. By degrees, his amber eyes thinned. 

Vincent folded his arms over his raised knees. “So, she is safe. The situation is far from perfect, but it is good to hear.”

“Don’t encourage it,” Cid said sourly. He let out a long stream of smoke and stabbed the butt of his cigarette in the sand before flicking it into the trash bucket. “It’ll keep talking if you do.”

Gradually, Barret heaved himself to his feet and moved around the fire to Cait Sith. “You’re with her, aren’t you?”

Cait Sith didn’t reply directly. “If ya could, what would ya say to her… _ right _ now?”

Barret stopped in front of Cait Sith, and the others around the fire watched him intently—awaiting a possible fight.

His face softening, Barret reached into the inside pocket of his tattered vest. “I’d tell her…I’d tell her everything’s okay.”

~

Her eyes shining, Marlene leaned forward on the tabletop and gently poked her finger at the image of her father. “It’s okay, Daddy…It’s okay.”

~

“I’d tell her I miss her every single day,” Barret whispered, a noticeable redness in his eyes. “It don’t matter where I go, I wonder what she’d think of every place I see. I hope…I hope she was happy today. And I have something special for her.” He opened his large hand to show off a necklace. It was humble but lovely. Stained-metal vines coiled around a polished, turquoise stone flanked by smaller ones like obsidian. “You remember this?” he asked Cait Sith.

“It was her momma’s, yeah?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it was.” Looking back into Cait Sith’s face, Barret swallowed hard. “You better tell her all that. And that her daddy loves her  _ so _ much.”

~

A soft smile on her face, Marlene nodded. “I love you too.”

~

“She loves you too,” Cait repeated.

~

Idly, Marlene brushed her finger over her father’s face on the screen. “I miss you…”

~

“And she misses you too.” 

His lips tightening, Barret nodded. “Yeah. That’s what I’d tell her.”

“She knows.”

“Just so you know, ya damn cat, if you made her cry on her birthday I  _ will _ find you and—”

~

Reeve quickly ended the transmission. The screen facing Marlene went black, though Reeve was still privy to Barret’s very colorful, distressingly-specific descriptions of his plans.  _ “Well, _ I think that’s enough for now,” he sighed out, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Tell him to be nice!” Marlene demanded as she sat up straight. “Tell him I say he has to be nice to Cait Sith.”

Reeve grimaced, his eyes growing larger briefly. “She says you have to be nice to me.”

Marlene beamed with a wide smile, proud of her newfound expertise in diplomacy.

Not that Reeve would ever have been stupid enough to say that to Barret, but the sentiment was appreciated. “Happy Birthday, Marlene.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tons a'notes today, here we go!
> 
> I like to imagine most roleplaying games happen over some amount of time, even though it's rarely made clear how long. I imagine it's been three or so months since the opening of the game, so things are likely to happen in that time period, right?
> 
> Making an appearance is Ruby Tuesti, Reeve's cannon mom from "On the Way to a Smile: Denzel." She's *usually* translated as "Ruvie," but ffs Ruby is a name and Ruvie is a mess. If you're the kind to keep track, yes, it's THAT Denzel from Advent Children living with her at this point.
> 
> For those who haven't played Dirge of Cerberus the Scottish accents might sound ridiculous for Cait, Ruvie, and Reeve, but Scottish is what SquareEnix decided is the best translation of the accent all three characters in Japanese. I went ahead and rolled with it, and for the purposes of my story it's called a "Highland" accent because I sometimes think I'm clever for using the simplest words possible.
> 
> The description of how Cait Sith is controlled is about as close to cannon as has been officially described. In the original game it's *super* unclear how on Earth Reeve controls Cait Sith, like he's seen with zero equipment other than making some kind of "putting a hand to an earpiece" motion, and he can pull off controlling Cait in the Shinra boardroom with nothing unusual about his behavior and no one noticing. At some point or another I ran across a bit from developers that described Reeve's control to be kind of similar to the occasional FF class, the puppetmaster--with Reeve "breathing life" into a doll to make it move and act independently. In Before Crisis the player meets Reeve and again sees no equipment on him, but sees him use an almost mind control over a robot Cait that shares what it sees and hears with him. Not what it feels, considering Cait is ripped apart by goblins and Reeve is only startled.
> 
> Tifa's description of baking cakes? Yeah, both of those mishaps are things my husband and I have done with cake. Cooking is easy, man. Baking is HARD.
> 
> For this chapter's illustration I gave us a visual for the very first Cait Sith mentioned in chapter one. I based him heavily on the Cait Sith doll Lulu could get in FFX, though I added that it's got kinda cheap, pre-made plastic eyes since this was made by a very young Reeve.  
>   
> 


	3. A Voice in the Kitchen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes the things that come close to destroying us happen on the most inconsequential of days. Sometimes those things are the only things that can bring us together.

Elmyra hummed to herself quietly as she chopped gysahl root and pashana bulbs. The day was mild and soothing, perfect for cooking and contemplation—and for putting off the last of the unpacking. It was such a lazy, warm morning that Marlene managed to play quietly rather than running up and down the stairs. 

The meaty broth for stew came to a boil, just in time for Elmyra to toss the cubed vegetables in. She turned to the fridge to grab seasoning herbs, and put them on the counter. After setting the broth to simmer, she got to work mincing the herbs.

_ Mom. Please don’t cry. _

Elmyra gasped audibly, spinning on her heels to face the gentle, familiar voice. However, the kitchen was empty. Letting out shaky breaths, Elmyra leaned against the counter, rubbing her face as she steadied herself. A sense of impending dread pounded through her chest, she had been so certain she had heard her daughter… 

But she was alone.

After shaking off the sensation, Elmyra went back to her work. Her head raised when she heard a knock at the front door. “Just one moment!” The layout of the house was anything but convenient, and she nearly bumped into Marlene on the stairs. “Marlene!” she said sharply. “I told you never to answer the door.”

“I just wanna see…” Marlene followed Elmyra to the ground floor.

Elmyra peered through the door’s peephole and smiled brightly. “Reeve, this is a surprise,” she greeted him warmly as she opened the door. “We didn’t expect you back so soon. You didn’t call…” Her smile faded as she took in his expression.

“Hello, El…” He trailed off, his voice drying in his throat. Elmyra was used to seeing Reeve looking tired and like the weight of the world sat on his shoulders, but this level of haggard was new. His eyes had dark circles under them and a weary redness, and strands of his black hair slid forward, making him look unkempt in comparison to his usual, calculated professionalism. One hand rested in his pocket, the other anxiously tugged at his tie. “Uh…May I—May I come in?”

A creeping chill climbed up Elmyra’s spine and gripped her throat. “O-Of course,” she said softly, moving aside. She shut the door after him as he slowly walked in. “Reeve is…” Her eyes darted to Marlene and back to him. “Is everything okay with Mr. Wallace?”

Reee’s dark eyes turned to the floor, swallowing hard. “He’s fine,” he mumbled. “I…Elmyra, I…”

Elmyra felt the air grow heavy, pushing on her shoulders. The voice in the kitchen echoed in her mind. “Reeve. Please…Please don’t…”

“I’m…I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Aerith…”

“Don’t,” she pleaded, shaking her head. “No.”

Several times Reeve opened his mouth to speak, only for little more than dry sounds to eke out. He again only murmured, “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

Elmyra knew. She already knew. An incoherent sound burst from her, and she shook her head wildly. “No! No, don’t say it…!” Her hands fumbled, gripping Reeve’s lapels as a surge of sobbing overtook her.

Reeve kept saying he was sorry, Marlene was begging for them to explain themselves, but no one was around Elmyra. They were miles away. Sliding to the floor, Elmyra felt wails wracking her entire body. Hands on her shoulders guided her, brought her to the sofa, but she could feel little more than shadows of sensation.

Nothing was right. She wasn’t supposed to go. The Lifestream didn’t deserve Aerith. 

* * *

Reeve draped a blanket over Elmyra once she had cried herself to exhaustion, rubbing her shoulder gently as she slept on the couch. While in slumber her brow tightened and her breath came out in fluttering sighs. Sleep would likely be difficult for her for a long time to come. 

Drained from the emotions of the last hour and a half, Reeve stood and patted Marlene on the top of her head. She looked up at him with red eyes, clutching the stuffed Cait Sith in a vise. 

“I’m going to the balcony,” he whispered to Marlene. “Do you want to stay here?”

Her lip trembling subtly, Marlene leaned her head against Elmyra and nodded.

Wordlessly, Reeve nodded in reply, then made the trek to the top floor. The stairs had never felt like such a slog before. 

Something in the kitchen smelled good. Seeing the stovetop on in the kitchen, he turned it off and moved the pot off the heat. Not even thinking, he then reached in the pantry beside the oven. With the kitchen necessities he had helped purchase for Elmyra and Marlene was a bottle of his personal favorite whiskey. Reeve hadn’t planned on taking any for himself when he had originally given it to Elmyra, but he was unable to stem the urge to pull it out, along with a glass. Trudging to the balcony, he stared out over the view from the fourth floor. 

Far, far in the distance, far beyond the sweeping, rolling plains leading to Kalm was the deep slope of the Midgar basin. A speck on the horizon, Reeve could just barely make out the Shinra tower and the undeniably barren, dreary, cracked earth around the city.

Taking a seat in one of the chairs on the balcony, he poured himself a drink. He idly sipped it, his mind a dull fog. His work phone was on silent, but he could feel it vibrating in his pocket. Reeve had given no warning for his disappearance that day, and it would have been too difficult to explain to any of his subordinates why he needed personal time to mourn an alleged terrorist’s death.

Tiny, hesitant footfalls in the kitchen caused him to turn his head. “You can come over, Marlene,” Reeve said.

Absent her plush, Marlene stepped onto the balcony and heaved herself into the chair next to his.

“Where’s Cait?” he asked gently.

“He’s protecting Miss Elmyra,” Marlene said. 

Reeve forced a smile. At least some version of Cait Sith could protect someone. Swallowing hard and clearing his throat, he managed to fight back the lump threatening his composure. “How…How are you doing, Marlene?”

Marlene rubbed her eyes and sniffed loudly. 

“It’s…It’s okay to not know how to feel,” Reeve offered softly. “You didn’t really know Aerith. But you know her mother…You care a lot about Miss Elmyra, don’t you?”

Marlene nodded. 

“She’s very lucky to have you here,” he said. “She ne—” His voice cracked and he covered it with a loud cough. Rubbing his forehead, he took a deep sip. “She’ll need you,” he whispered, the loudest he could force out his voice without losing control of it. “She’ll need you to be brave and take care of her.”

“I liked the flower lady.”

Reeve acknowledged this with a subtle nod. “I know.”

“Are Daddy and Tifa sad?” 

“Right now,” he said. “They’ll be…They’ll be okay someday. Just not right now. They were both very good friends with—with her.”

Looking up at Reeve, Marlene asked, “Were you?”

A cold numbness fell over him at the question. His eyes staring off, Reeve vividly pictured the horror and betrayal in Aerith’s face when she had learned Marlene was being held by Shinra. The terror not only for Marlene, but the mother Aerith knew had been with her. “I—I suppose.”

“She liked you,” Marlene assured him. “Nobody can hate Cait Sith.”

He firmly set down the glass to prevent dropping it. Reeve leaned forward and buried his head in his hands. Everyone could hate Cait Sith. Everyone but Aerith. She had been genuinely heartbroken thinking of a  _ puppet _ being destroyed in the Temple of the Ancients. With that glowing, sentimental expression she had looked directly in Cait Sith’s eyes, Reeve’s eyes, and pleaded with the others for compassion. For the spy. Not even the spy, the robotic surrogate for the spy.

“She—She liked him,” Reeve croaked. “Aerith didn’t hate anyone. She  _ couldn’t _ hate anyone.  _ Tseng _ survived Sephiroth, but not her…? Why not  _ her?” _

Reeve flinched as he felt an unexpected touch. Marlene leaned her head against his arm, clutching it tightly. “You’ll be okay someday,” she repeated back to him. 

Reeve broke. The numb emptiness of the night before and that day drowned under the despair he had tried to wall his soul against. His shoulders shaking, he surrendered himself to tears, pulling Marlene closer. She returned his embrace and he heavily sobbed into her. 

“Even  _ you’re  _ crying for her…?” The voice murmured over the distance of continents.

Unable to sort where his vision was immediately, Reeve felt the sensation of Cait Sith raising his head and met Tifa’s gaze. He had been present and aware for most of her weeping the night before, and she stared into Cait Sith’s face with newly-misting eyes. “You  _ are, _ aren’t you?” she mumbled in disbelief. She eased to a stop beside Cait Sith in the middle of the rocky path leading away from the Forgotten City. Tifa looked into his face in pain, unconcerned with the fact that the others were still hiking and gradually leaving them behind.

To Reeve’s shock, Tifa cautiously reached her hands under Cait Sith’s arms and eased him to a standing position. “Aye don’t…?”

Tifa’s shoulders rose and sank from a deep, shaky sigh, then she hesitantly pulled Cait Sith to her. “You’re crying…for some reason it—it makes me happy that you are. It doesn’t make sense. I don’t know why hearing you cry means so much to me, but…thank you.”

Cait Sith’s fuzzy face buried into her shoulder. “Now lookit me, lass—Now Aye can’t stop…!”

“You cared about her too…” Breaking into sobs, Tifa squeezed the plush desperately. “You weren’t supposed to care, how am I supposed to hate you like this?”

“Of course Aye cared,” Cait whimpered (being able to speak Reeve’s thoughts meant Cait didn’t have to struggle to form words like Reeve currently did). “Ya don’t believe me, but Aye care about  _ all _ a’yeh…Aye don’t know how to make ya believe.”

“I believe you,” she whispered between trembling breaths. “Whoever you really are, I believe you. I don’t forgive you, but I believe you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Three is very short, so thankfully there's a Chapter 4 too.
> 
> Y'all I don't think anybody knows how hard Aerith's death messed me up back in '97. It still messes people up to this day, I'm sure. Did you want more cute fluff--? BUCKLE UP, BUCKOS. Did you want cute illustrations? YOU GET TIFA UGLY CRYING.
> 
> If I'm hitting the major notes of the FFVII, there's no way around its turning point. In-game Cait Sith mentions he's the one who told Elmyra about her daughter's death, which meant she had to get the news from Reeve.  
>   
> 


	4. Escape from the Weapons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cait Sith and Reeve's lives have collided at the Northern Crater, and Reeve Tuesti must face that his loyalty to both his new friends and his employers will never mix.

The thunderous shaking in the crevasse grew worse by the moment. While Reeve couldn’t feel the rumbling or taste the drifting dust in the air, he had trouble staying oriented through Cait’s perspective. Cait Sith’s mount was doing its best to stay steady under the current conditions, but its efforts were futile.

The entire ordeal of the last hour was as disorienting as the shifting ground. Reeve’s two lives had crashed together violently, and much sooner than Reeve could have anticipated. He had known executive board members left Midgar to go north, but he couldn’t have imagined the two groups had any chance of running into each other. To Reeve’s dismay the renegades were now running beside Shinra soldier escorts, Professor Hojo, Director Scarlet (how did she _run_ in heels that slim?), and President Rufus Shinra himself.

The towering airship _Highwind_ loomed at the edge of the canyon, its engines rumbled as it prepared for takeoff. The Shinra board members dashed up the gangplank leading to the main deck of their vehicle, Director Heidegger awaiting them and waving them on largely. (Oh. Heidegger was here too. Of course, he was.) 

A crewmember stood at the end of the ramp and gawked at the menagerie of approaching hangers-on. Taken aback, he paused in his prepping to raise the walkway to fumble out, “Uh, um, only Shinra employees—”

Cid jabbed a finger in the middle of his chest, his blue eyes burning as he sneered. “Don’t you try to tell me I can’t get on _my_ goddamn ship, kid! Move it.”

The crewman’s eyes widened, instantly starstruck. “Holy—You’re-You’re Captain Highwind!”

Roughly grabbing his shoulder, Cid spun the mechanic around and shoved him forward. “I said _move it!”_

Yuffie was the last to board and hesitated at the end of the gangplank, her face skewing in dread. “Uh, guys, don’t you think we could make it if we just run? Like, _really_ fast?”

“This whole place is comin’ down!” Barret snapped at her, yanking her forward just before a falling rock slammed into the base of the gangplank. 

While everyone who had been in the crevasse made it onto the deck, the crewman and Cid struggled to raise the now-crumpled ramp. Cid growled and spat out increasingly-colorful profanities as more and more of the cliff sides around them cracked and plummeted. He then let out a furious cry and kicked a lever nearby. “Get her airborne!” he hollered across the deck. _“Now!”_

In bewilderment the crewmember watched the gangplank as it disengaged from the ship and cascaded to the ground. “Oh…Oh, I hope that doesn’t come out of my paycheck. Rope ladders, it is…gonna…have to be.”

Cait Sith found himself in the middle of the confusion on deck, his gaze sweeping over it all with detached puzzlement. Cid, Tifa, Barret, and Heidegger gathered at the edge of the deck as the ship rose, Yuffie currently staggered and sank to her knees near an isolated corner of the deck, Shinra crewman and soldiers rushed to ensure a swift takeoff, and Scarlet and Rufus were currently in a heated argument. 

All of it was so surreal…

Cait Sith heard an audible growl and glanced down to see Nanaki’s hackles rising and his ears flattening against his head. His good eye seared into the man standing at the railing and gazing out with little more than distant fascination—his long, greying-black hair and white lab coat fluttering in the increasing wind. Taking several gradual, stalking steps forward Nanaki seethed, “Hojo…so close.”

Seemingly unshaken by the shuddering of the ship, Vincent gently stepped beside Nanaki and eased the metal-tipped fingers of his gauntlet on the hunter’s shoulder. When Nanaki looked up to him, Vincent shook his head. “Not now.”

“You can’t take this from me…!” Nanaki hissed bitterly.

His eyes flashing a deeper red for an instant, Vincent scowled down at him. “I am not saying you can’t. I am saying _not now,”_ he said firmly. “Look around you. We are all at Shinra’s mercy.”

A loud boom brought all eyes back to the crater as the ship continued to climb above it. Massive figures below pulled themselves from the shear sides, and Cait urged his mount forward to get a closer look. Cait was now near enough to hear Hojo breathe out, “Incredible…Gast had no _idea_ what the Weapons truly were…”

Horrifying was what they were. Reeve was grateful for the distance between himself and Cait Sith as he made out the shimmering, bone-white armor of a hulking monstrosity that clawed its way out of the crevice. When it parted its jagged, cavernous maw to let out an earth-shaking roar, the _Highwind_ rattled with it.

A blazing flash interrupted Hojo’s musing, sending Heidegger backwards with an undignified cry of surprise. The center of the crater resonated, pulsing brightly as a column of light pierced the sky. The _Highwind_ shuddered as it scrambled to escape the approaching rings of powerful energy. Reeve looked to his renegade companions in horror. If he had to watch all of them die at once he wasn’t sure how he would go on. They had lost Aerith and now Cloud. Reeve couldn’t take any more so soon.

It was also distressing that Reeve couldn’t actually say if he felt the same way for any of his coworkers or employer.

Beside Cait Sith, Cid’s face grew pale and his mouth fell open, his cigarette tumbling from his lips in shock. “Oh…Oh, _shit_ on me…” he croaked dryly.

A titanic, black, draconic beast hovered distressingly close to the _Highwind_ —perhaps most distressing was that it had come so close to them and none of those on deck had been aware of its silent arrival until too late. Its empty, glowing eyes stared down at the inconsequential specks on the ship, then turned its gaze to the horizon. The hair of those on deck drifted as though surrounded by static, and a base-filled rumble emanated from the beast’s furnace-like midsection. A sheen encompassed it, the unmistakable shimmer of the Lifestream, and with unnatural speed it shot forward, pushing the _Highwind_ aside.

Tendrils of the Lifestream whipped from the dragon-like Weapon’s wake, and with a sharp snap of air Tifa was run through by the sparkling streams. She had no time to cry out. Her breath sucked out loudly and her body was thrown onto the deck unceremoniously. 

“Tifa!” Barret howled, skidding beside her. 

While Cait could hear further booms and blasts of energy as more Weapons burst forth from the depths, his attention was solely on Tifa. With his one-armed grip, Barret shook Tifa’s limp form in desperation, his eyes wide in despair. “Don’t you disappear too…Don’t you do it!”

Easing closer, Hojo’s shoulders shook from his uniquely unsettling cackling. “If she ever wakes up it will be quite the miracle,” Hojo said darkly. “Surely, all of us have seen mako poisoning? I do wonder if a Weapon’s link to the Lifestream is even stronger…?”

His face twisting in scathing hate, Barret raised his right arm to level it at Hojo. “Son of a bitch, _you_ did all this…!”

Immediately, three soldiers at once tackled Barret, fighting against his thrashing to take control of his gun. “Get off—get _off_ me, ya pieces of shit!” he bellowed.

Dischordent chaos overtook the deck in an instant. Another soldier rushed to block Nanaki before he could pounce on Hojo. Nanaki’s teeth clamped on the guard’s baton and he shook his head fiercely to wrench it from his opponent’s grasp. Cid shouted furiously at Barret to not damage the _Highwind,_ Vincent whipped out his heavy revolver to point it at Heidegger and Scarlet in warning before she could snatch up a sidearm from a soldier, and Yuffie feebly readied her shuriken as she sickly wobbled closer to the confrontation.

“Wait, _wait!”_ Cait blurted to deaf ears, he and his mount waving their arms. “Ye’re all mad, ya can’t—!”

“Stop.”

Barret froze and the rest of the renegades followed suit. Rufus stood over Tifa, lazily pointing the barrel of a shotgun over her chest as she lay helpless. “I care about any one of you as far as an explanation as to what the hell just happened. That is it. There is no bargaining here, AVALANCHE. Do I make myself clear?”

Barret slowly untensed and ceased resisting the grips of the soldiers as they roughly restrained him, one forcing a baton under his chin. His surrender was met with booming laughter from Heidegger. “That’s right,” Heidegger affirmed. “Now the rest of you.”

The others gradually backed off, and Rufus tossed aside his bangs from his forehead. “Captain Highwind. I had _assumed_ you had quit, but it is very considerate of you to tender your resignation in person.”

Sneering, Cid growled, “Kiss my ass, daddy’s boy.”

Rufus threw a smoldering glance in Cait Sith’s direction, sending a shiver down Reeve’s back. Rufus then titled his head to address a nearby crewmember. “There is a sick bay on this ship?”

“M-More or less,” she stammered. “I mean, just a room with a cot and emergency supplies—”

“Two of you,” Rufus demanded of several soldiers. “Take this woman and escort Professor Hojo to the sick bay. If she makes it to Junon, good. If she doesn’t, oh _well.”_ As Hojo straightened his lapels and slinked toward the stairs, Rufus added, “But at least make the _barest_ effort to keep her alive.”

Hojo leered in response, then turned away.

“Sir,” one of the soldiers holding Barret said. “What about this one? There’s no detention cells.”

Rolling his eyes, Rufus stepped back to give room to those collecting Tifa. “There’s a stable. Put him where the other animals go. Make sure he stays put.”

Barret spat in his direction as he was forcibly dragged to his feet. “All of _you_ are the animals here, Shinra _dogs!”_

Scarlet laughed shrilly as Barret was shoved forward. “With all that barking you’re not proving your point.”

“The rest of you,” Rufus warned the others. “The trip to Junon will pass without incident. Do we understand each other?”

Each of them shared defeated looks, then in resignation they obeyed. Vincent leaned Yuffie against him as they trudged forward, Nanaki’s tail swayed low to the ground as he followed. Cait was even sure that the flame at its tip flickered less brightly.

Cait Sith moved to step in line behind Cid by rote, but Rufus’ voice stopped him. “Cait Sith.”

Starting largely, Cait spun to face him. “M-Mr. President?”

His cool eyes thin as he glared at Cait, he said icily, “I appreciate your initiative in escorting the prisoners. After all, you wouldn’t be walking with them as though you’re one of them.”

Cait’s ears drooped slightly. “No, of course not.” 

“We don’t have the manpower to surround them at all times. I expect you to watch them.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And once I return to Midgar there are _matters_ to discuss.”

* * *

When Cait Sith caught up with his companions, the group of them were occupying an out-of-the-way spot in the central decks. Nanaki lay curled on the metal floor, his tail thumping dully. Beside him, Vincent leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, his eyes unwaveringly following the crew and military guard. Some sympathetic Shinra employee had provided Yuffie with a bucket and she sat on the floor with her legs cross-legged around it as she groaned.

On the other hand, surrounded by the rumbling of engines, Cid’s expression was that of someone who had just reunited with a very dear friend. His gaze practically sparkled as he soaked in the pulsing machines, and he meandered around the group’s designated area to run a gloved hand along the ship’s seams lovingly.

As Cait Sith approached a low growl rumbled from Nanaki, fair warning that getting too close wouldn’t be acceptable. Cait Sith and his mount simultaneously fidgeted with their hands nervously, and he gently began, “Listen, everyone. There’s hours before we get to Junon so maybe we should…talk this out?”

“I don’t wanna talk,” Yuffie groaned, lowering her head over the bucket. “I wanna die.”

“There seems little to discuss,” Vincent added coldly. “We are on our way to Junon and some sort of Shinra-designed mockery of justice.”

“Aye-Aye know this all seems hopeless…but I can do muh best to speak for ya, Aye can convince the board,” Cait said. “Make sure the worst doesn’t happen to ya. Every one o’ya was doing what ye could for the whole world. Even if it wasn’t the best way, it was for the right reason! That means somethin.’ It means somethin’ to _me._ Just don’t make things worse.”

Yuffie clicked her tongue loudly. “He makes me wanna puke harder and I don’t have anything left in me,” Yuffie grumbled.

In frustration, Cait pleaded, “Aye mean, we’ve all done our best to try to stop Sephiroth and…and maybe it’s time to accept whatever we can do just isn’t enough. Haven’t we lost enough? Enough friends?”

Nanaki snapped his jaws sharply, jumping to his feet. “Cloud’s way was the _only_ way. You suggest we should have followed Shinra’s way? How are you still so blind?”

Cait gestured with his hands, his heart heavier at his companions’ refusal to accept reality. “But-But…Don’t ya see? Cloud’s…Cloud’s _gone_ …maybe the one we knew was never ‘Cloud’ to begin with, but he was _our_ Cloud. And he…he still abandoned us.” 

Nanaki, Vincent, and Yuffie avoided Cait’s face, their expressions hollow. It didn’t matter if they didn’t like it, they had to know Reeve was right.

Still in his own world, Cid loudly shushed Cait, holding a finger to his lips. “Please, shut the hell up. Stop ruining this for me.”

Before Cait could do more than gawk at Cid, a small crowd of crew members carefully approached. One cleared her throat hesitantly, adding nervous glances at Vincent and Nanaki. “Um…Um, C-Captain Highwind?”

A satisfied smirk on his face, Cid stepped up to her. “That’s me.”

“Oh, wow, it is,” she said breathily, blushing. She recomposed herself and giggled self-consciously, while her coworkers laughed jovially at her expense.

“What can I do for you?” he offered, folding his arms over his broad chest. “Do I have all of you to thank for how good my girl’s lookin’?”

“Absolutely, sir,” one of the mechanics affirmed, beaming. 

“I can see some upgrades to my design,” Cid said casually, staring around the ceiling. “But I ain’t been running her in a long time. She’s in good hands, though. I can tell.”

Reeve watched Cid in dumbstruck awe. How was Cid able to genuinely smile his way to the inevitable end? The smile wasn’t forced, it wasn’t bittersweet, there was an inescapable, radiating excitement in his face, even as the world was crumbling around him. There was still something keeping him going, and it couldn’t have just been an airship…it didn’t make sense.

Eagerly, another crew member said, “I’d do just about anything for this ship. You have no idea how hard I worked to get here full time.”

“All of us did!” another chimed in. “The _Highwind_ is the jewel of Shinra’s fleet. There’s no greater honor for any grunts like us.”

Laughing boisterously, Cid clapped a hand on the young mechanic’s shoulder. _“‘Grunts?’_ Don’t you ever let Shinra sell you short. You’re what keeps them running and they damn well better be grateful.”

Uncomfortable glances passed between the crew, and Cid’s face grew hard in concern. “Oh.” Cid huffed. “They aren’t. Are they?”

The crew began speaking of their many occupational woes, particularly under Director Heidegger’s unrelenting abuse. Listening intently to every word, Cid’s eyes thinned angrily. His expression was identical to when he had faced threats like Jenova—how Cid managed to muster the energy to run hot at all times baffled Reeve.

“Buncha bullshit,” Cid finally hissed. “Heidegger doesn’t deserve to _breathe_ in this ship’s direction. I was never a cuddly moogle when I ran ‘er, but I won’t stand for someone who doesn’t even appreciate the ones keepin’ his ass in the air.”

The faces of the crewmembers shone in appreciation, and Cid passed bolstering handshakes, pats to their shoulders, and warm words of encouragement to each of them. He wrapped up with: “You all do _your_ best, and you keep this girl running at _her_ best. Keep your heads down, and don’t you listen to a single damn word from someone who doesn’t respect you. Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll make sure he answers for it. You’ll see.”

During Cid’s motivational exchanges, Nananki, Vincent, and Yuffie (in between dry heaves) watched him as though hypnotized. They sensed the same thing Cait had, that somehow Cid could stand at the precipice of hopelessness and still have bravado to spare. As the mechanics parted ways, all of them instilled with a new energy, they darted back to their duties.

Smiling at their departure proudly, Cid calmly lit a cigarette. He then swiveled his eyes to Cait. “Same goes to you.”

Cait started and tilted his head slightly in utter confusion.

Cid took a long breath, a snake of smoke slithering from him. “Not a one of you. Not a _one_ of you better let someone who doesn’t appreciate how hard you’re working give you shit. I’m fighting to keep this planet in one piece, you think I’m gonna let some dipshit like Heidegger or Rufus stop me? Hell, no.” He laughed firmly, propping his hands on his hips. “And ya know? You were right about one thing, cat. Our Cloud might not be _the_ Cloud, but he’s _our_ Cloud. And I don’t think there can’t be a way to get Sephiroth out of his head.” 

Vincent slid from the wall to ease beside Cid, giving him a short nod. “Now isn’t the time to despair. Thank you, Cid.”

Half-smirking at Cait, Cid leaned close to him. “Now. Here’s how this is gonna go. You’re gonna keep an eye on the guards. When we get close to Junon, but _before_ the ship starts slowing to dock, you’re gonna let us know.”

Cait straightened, his mount mimicking his motions as he stared up at Cid dumbly. “Aye don’t…Aye don’t understand, do ye actually _trust_ me?”

Cid paused, throwing a look at Vincent, who only shrugged. He then faced Cait and titled his hand back and forth. “Ennhh? I mean, you’re the best option we got right now, so I don’t have any choice.”

“What do ye plan to do?”

“Nothing too complicated,” Cid snickered. “Even if we all can’t get out in one go, nobody’s getting left behind for good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, all, didja think this whole time that you were only going to see this story from a nice little house in Kalm? Naw, man, I had plans since the beginning that this is a deep-dive into Reeve's character, and pulling us to the game's main plot is the only way to do it! Starting here, we get a look at what the player missed as the main cast escapes the Northern Crater after Cloud leaves the party and Tifa falls into a coma.
> 
> I really love writing each of the characters and their foibles, even the Shinra board is too much fun to write--and it was such a delight to write out one of my favorite cutscenes in the original game shot fer shot. A couple of notes as follows: 
> 
> I chose to refer to Red XIII as Nanaki since the player would have passed through Cosmo Canyon on their way to this point in the game and...it's his real name? Even though Red says he doesn't care what humans call him, it's kinda icky to keep referring to him by what his captor *branded on his skin.* Right????
> 
> The gag with the "Highwind's" ramp is a personal joke, as I always wondered why a decently large and clearly expensive ship like it had to use rope ladders all the time.
> 
> Cid's interactions with the crew is mentioned in a fairly easy-to-miss line from one of the crew members when the player first gets the "Highwind." Also, no matter how blue collar he acts, he's also really good with words and one of the hearts of the main cast--undoubtedly why he's the only other character who leads the party beyond Cloud and Tifa.
> 
> I could have drawn any number of things for this chapter, but goddamn it the image of Cid and Vincent reacting to Cait Sith's "Do you actually trust me?" is too funny to me.  
>   
> 


	5. Escape from the Highwind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cid Highwind says he has a plan to get the band of renegades off the Highwind and out of Shinra hands. Reeve only has until its success to decide if Cait Sith can go on as a Shinra tool or join his friends for good.

Cait Sith ventured onto the bridge, his attention sweeping over the bustling crew and pre-landing procedures. Hojo slouched in a seat against the far wall, his hands knitted over his midsection and an ankle crossed over his knee in boredom. Rufus, Heidegger, and Scarlet stood talking near the foot of the massive windows at the bow, and just past them Cait Sith could see the looming cannon of Junon approaching in the far distance. 

It was time.

Reeve wasn’t sure how he was going to get out of this whole ordeal unscathed, but Cid had won even him over. The risk was worth it for their sakes. 

The mooglesaurus hopped its way back to the interior decks, and it stopped in the middle of one of the catwalks. It threw two hefty, fluffy thumbs up to the guards standing near one of the staircases. The soldiers glanced at each other dumbly. One of them awkwardly gave Cait Sith a thumbs up in return, unaware of what had just been put into motion.

While the prisoners had been removed of obvious weapons, an unknown force was among them. From Nibelheim to the Northern Crater, many an abomination and monster had been on the receiving end, but Shinra forces had not yet had the pleasure of meeting the Galian Beast. Throughout the center decks a howl from beyond resonated across the metal walls, and a hulking, horned form of black and midnight-purple burst toward Shinra security—sparks flying as its bony claws propelled it forward.

The effect on morale was instantaneous, soldiers scrambling and screaming as they blindly fired weapons and tripped over one another. Cait Sith had seen Vincent’s other form repeatedly and even _he_ was intimidated by seeing it charging in his general direction. 

Distraction doing its job to the letter, the other three dashed for further into the ship. Cait Sith’s mount rushed after them, making it in time to catch Yuffie’s arms turning into a flash as she dove at the soldiers guarding the renegades’ equipment. A series of clangs and sickening splashes followed, and the pair of soldiers were suddenly on the ground groaning. Tossing aside the now heavily-dented and empty bucket, Yuffie aggressively kicked open the door to the room.

Cid, Nanaki, and Cait Sith gawked at Yuffie in disgust from the scene at their feet and she grinned back at them devilishly. “A good ninja uses every tool at her disposal. _Every_ tool.”

Rearmed with his spear, Cid looked over his shoulder as he heard further clamor and boots approaching. “Your go, cat.”

Cait nodded and the mooglesaurus obeyed his commands to run back to the entrance of the hall. The main deck was in disarray as soldiers struggled to get back on their feet and the raging howls of the Galian Beast faded to other parts of the ship. Heidegger threw degrading insults at the crew as they ran circles in a panic, a much more exaggerated panic than their completely untouched conditions should have demanded. They hadn’t even been part of the plan, but they were a welcome addition.

Near the bridge Rufus pointed fiercely at slashes around the ship’s interior and barked at Hojo—who only shrugged noncommittally. Scarlet, predictably unwilling to delegate, stormed in Cait Sith’s direction, kicking aside any security foolish enough to not crawl away from her warpath. She snatched a rifle off the ground and her face twisted in a bestial snarl as she neared, flanked by soldier escorts. 

“They got their weapons!” Cait Sith blurted, planting himself in her way and waving his arms. “If we hurry we can catch ‘em. They mus’ be he—”

Scarlet bodily shoved the mooglesaurus aside, slamming it into the wall. She scoffed at him. “Useless no matter _what_ you look like.”

Steadying himself, Cait hopped in her wake. Far ahead of them the escapees made a mad run for the stables. 

Scarlet stomped a heeled foot and cried, “There’s nowhere to _go,_ you drooling idiots!”

In the middle of the hall Cid screeched to a halt and spun to face his pursuers, leering at Scarlet.

Scarlet raised her firearm and took aim. She hissed, “Arrogant waste of gil.”

With a cutting laugh Cid shouted back, “Next time you wanna start a war with me, do it on your turf and not mine!” He stabbed his spear against a valve, and jets of steam burst from pipes lining the walls.

Letting out a cry of surprise, Scarlet staggered back and shielded her face. Unconcerned with scalding steam, Cait Sith bounced ahead of her and the soldiers. “Aye got ‘em, Scarlet!” he called dramatically as he followed Cid and the others.

Nearing the stables, Cid raised two fingers to his mouth and used them to let out a shrill whistle. While this alerted the security guarding the door, it also caused the figure trapped in one of the pens to raise his head sharply. The escapees ducked behind cover as gunfire rang out, bullets bouncing off the floor and crates.

Cait and his mount slid to join them, skidding to rest beside Yuffie. Yuffie actually grinned at him and gave a pat to his head. “Y’know, I almost don’t hate you. Almost.”

Nanaki looked back at the direction they had come, his nostrils flaring. “They’re coming.”

Cait watched Cid scowl in the direction of Barret’s prison, and followed his gaze. 

Barret made no moves to struggle against the restraints on his arms or to stand. He intensely stared at Cid and very deliberately shook his head. 

Cid’s brow tightened, and he whispered, “I get ya, buddy. I figured.” Cid spun back to the others. “Barret won’t leave without Tifa, and we don’t have time to drag her out. We gotta come back for both of ‘em.”

Yuffie’s mouth hung open in shock. “What?! Are you _senile,_ gramps!”

Nanaki barked, “We can’t leave without them. We may never _have_ another chance!”

“We _will,”_ Cid snapped. “But if we don’t make a break for it now then we _won’t.”_

The group relented as Cid led them to and up a set of stairs. The open air and rushing wind of the outer deck greeted them, and they hurried to the railing. Over the side a neat row of lifeboats hung in wait, dangling from frames. They looked like ordinary dinghies, but would sprout gliding sails as they drifted from the boat—the only option for safely evacuating an airship. 

Yuffie and Nanaki climbed in one of the boats as Cid directed Cait Sith. The two of them rapidly set every last lifeboat to launch, and then paused as Heidegger’s gravely shouts and thundering groups of steps approached. Steeling himself with a smirk, Cid hopped in the lifeboat with Yuffie and Nanaki and gave a swift kick to the side of the _Highwind_ to get their vessel moving. 

“Hey, Heidegger!” Cid blasted at their nearing adversaries. “You better _believe_ I’m comin’ back for my ship, shit-fer-brains!”

As the distance between the _Highwind_ and the escape vessel grew ever larger, Cait Sith hesitated at the edge of the railing. This was the point of no return. Follow his companions, the ones who he considered friends, or stay with his employers, the ones who had given him everything and made Midgar a reality…

Cid whistled sharply and tossed out Vincent’s distinctive, three-barreled revolver past Cait Sith’s shoulder. The next few seconds passed in only a breath and as long as an eternity. The revolver’s owner flew past Cait Sith, his hand perfectly clutching his sidearm, and he whipped around in a leap off the side of the ship. Vincent’s flourish moved him to directly face Cait Sith, his crimson cloak spreading around him like bloody wings. The triple barrels of Vincent’s gun leveled with Cait Sith, and his brow tightened in a twinge of regret.

Vincent said softly, “I know what Shinra does to traitors. Goodbye.”

A blast.

Reeve cried out in horror, thrown backwards from shock. He let out a second cry as his chair tumbled and he spilled onto his office floor, his hand instinctively clutching his chest. Gasping for breath, Reeve layed on the carpet in a heap, shaking. Cait Sith didn’t feel pain to share with Reeve, so he didn’t exactly have a _good_ excuse for his extreme reaction…just that staring down a gun and getting shot in first person was so much more terrifying than he’d been prepared for.

He rolled onto his back and stared up at his ceiling, for a time doing nothing more than calming his nerves by degrees. He could vaguely see through what was left of Cait Sith: Heidegger bellowing at soldiers and pointing to the distance in rage, security sending gunfire off the ship’s side at the fleet of lifeboats giving the escapees cover as they glided to safety, the sideways glances Cait Sith’s pieces were given as others walked by him callously, and the very familiar sound of Scarlet’s screaming as Cait’s head was punted across the deck.

Reeve let out a long breath and recalled the knack from this puppet. There was no use in keeping it going anymore. 

However, Reeve still didn’t move from his spot on the floor and he rested his hands on his chest. While Reeve had internally debated, Vincent had made the decision for him…and it was ultimately the right one. It was ridiculous he had even considered making Cait Sith escape with the others. His shaky company loyalty would have been undeniable, and Reeve would have had to answer for it in person instead of through a plush toy. Vincent had protected him. Through everything that Cait Sith had done, even trying to convince them all to not resist Shinra’s retribution, Vincent had still protected him. And said goodbye as though Cait would be missed. 

The ache in Vincent’s eyes would linger in Reeve’s memory. Probably for a very, very long time.

It was hard to imagine it was all over. His companions were going to fight their own battles, and Cait Sith was no longer necessary for any of them. Not for the renegades, not for Shinra, not even for Marlene and Elmyra. Without Cait Sith being beside Barret, Reeve would have nothing to report…

Reeve was just going to have to go back to his life before…Why did that thought suddenly fill him with such bitter resentment? 

Of course, nothing would be exactly the same as it was. Who knew what exactly was coming, but something had changed forever. Things could never go back.

* * *

Elmyra pushed open the double doors of the school’s entrance, escorting Marlene out. “What did you think?” Elmyra asked as they strolled, tugging at her hand gently.

Marlene shrugged, the movement jostling the floppy Cait Sith in her arms.

“All the children in the neighborhood were excited to see you,” Elmyra offered. “And everything looked very colorful, didn’t it?”

Marlene considered this, then leaned closer against Elmyra, making their steps more awkward. 

“Come on, Marlene,” Elmyra insisted, slowing to a stop to ease her away from her leg. “You can’t hide behind grown-ups forever.”

Pouting, Marlene instead gripped Cait Sith harder. “I’ll miss you.”

Tiredly, Elmyra nodded. Not nearly as much as Elmyra would miss her, but she couldn’t admit that. She couldn’t allow Marlene to let Elmyra hide her away and keep her for herself, away from an overly-cruel world. “You’ll love school, though. And your father will be so proud of you if he sees you learning.”

A smile began to creep across Marlene’s face at the mention of her father. She looked up to Elmyra to speak, but stopped. Her brow grew hard as her large, brown eyes stared above Elmyra in puzzlement.

“W-What is it, Marlene?”

“What is that?” she asked curiously.

“Hm?” Elmyra turned to look upwards, and her blood grew cold. Unobscured by daylight, an eerie object hung in the blue sky. It was tiny, but the fact that it burned brightly enough to be seen midday with the naked eye sent a shiver through Elmyra. Ever since Aerith’s death, the looming cloud of impending dread hadn’t lifted, and she couldn’t simply dismiss it as grief. Elymra had no idea why she thought it, but that distant, ominous star had something to do with what had happened to her daughter. And it was a sign that the worst was to come.

Others in the street also paused, pointing upwards and hushed voices pondering the new celestial body.

“Ms. Elmyra?” Marlene asked, breaking her out of her frightened trance.

“L-Let’s go home,” Elmyra said firmly. “Maybe…Maybe school isn’t the best choice right now.”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It might not be obvious from the first 3 Chapters, but I actually love writing action. Not necessarily *combat,* be definitely action.
> 
> In the original game Hojo is not only a wild card with his motivations, but a wild card in what information he just can't be arsed to keep track of. Would he have remembered what all he had done to Vincent? Honestly, I doubt it.
> 
> When Scarlet insults Cid she's doing so with motivation directly referencing my short story "Stars Over Midgar." https://archiveofourown.org/works/24421945
> 
> Although I have extremely "mixed" feelings about Dirge of Cerberus, I decided to go with the narrative choice that Vincent exclusively uses the Cerberus as his sidearm. It fits his aesthetic more than just rando guns.
> 
> I think I came up with the only way Cait Sith could have been a double agent from this point on: Shinra saw Cait destroyed and didn't think twice about it.  
>   
> 


	6. They Can Have No More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the destruction of his last Caith Sith model, Reeve Tuesti has returned to his usual duties. However, now that he's had a glimpse of what life can be beyond only civility, Reeve is faced with a difficult choice.

Six days had passed since the breakout on the  _ Highwind _ and the appearance of the impending Meteor. Rufus previously had warned Reeve of “matters to discuss,” but so far had spent so little time in Midgar that nothing had yet come of that threat. There were much larger things to worry about, all of them at least thirty feet tall and currently causing havoc worldwide. Reeve had to respect Rufus for stepping up to his duties in protecting the people from the Weapons, even if there was a sense it was to protect his reputation more.

Meanwhile, Reeve returned to busying himself with the daily affairs of Midgar. His staff appreciated his focus on regular duties, especially as the concerns of the city’s residents multiplied exponentially by the day. While the Shinra Space and Aeronautics Department had few responsibilities on a consistent basis, they were the first ones able to triangulate the Meteor’s path: if unaltered, Midgar would be ground zero. Shinra had made no public announcements to confirm this, of course, but the rising anxiety from the populace certainly indicated Shinra scientists hadn’t been the only ones to deduce it.

Burying himself in his responsibilities hadn’t been the comfort that Reeve had hoped for, but he had little choice. He didn’t have anything else.

Idly reading over printed reports, Reeve stepped into one of the elevators. For a moment he flipped through pages, mumbling to himself.

Tseng’s voice interrupted his thoughts: “Director. Are you going to choose a floor?”

Reeve started, noticing for the first time the elevator he had chosen already had an occupant. “Oh! Uh…Sixty-four.”

After scanning his ID, Tseng calmly pressed the button and the elevator began to climb. The two rose in silence, Reeve avoiding eye contact. The destruction of the last Cait Sith model had ended his tenuous partnership with the Investigation Sector of the General Affairs Department. Reeve hadn’t even been aware that Tseng was out of ICU, much less that he was physically capable enough to be back in uniform.

Then again, Turks rarely took lengthy vacations.

“I never had the chance to thank you, Director,” Tseng said coolly. “If you had chosen to abandon your reconnaissance when I suggested, no one would have known to come for me.”

Clearing his throat softly, Reeve held up a hand. “There’s no need.” His memory returned to his laments to Marlene, dark musings that Reeve would have absolutely traded Tseng’s life for Aerith’s. Reeve wasn’t entirely sure his opinion had changed in the interim, and he wasn’t proud of it.

A subtle smile showed through Tseng’s stoneface. “Turks remember favors to our own.”

The elevator stopped at the sixty-fourth floor, and to Reeve’s discomfort Tseng stepped out with him and matched his pace. “It’s not necessary,” Reeve assured him as they walked.

“It is,” Tseng replied. “You were friends with my predecessor. We haven’t forgotten that, either.”

Reeve felt a swell of boiling bile in his midsection, a sensation he didn’t appreciate. The  _ audacity _ of Tseng to bring up Chief Veld Dragoon around Reeve. From what he understood, Tseng had carried out the execution orders  _ personally. _ Reeve hadn’t allowed himself to dwell on things he couldn’t change for much of his career, but that was  _ before _ traveling with Cloud and his companions. Being reminded of the Turks’ atrocities now  _ very _ much made Reeve bitter about things he couldn’t change. 

Especially how complicit Reeve had been in so many of them.

“I’m on my way to a meeting,” Reeve said, the sharpness of the syllables belied any attempts at neutrality. 

“Of course, Director.”

Reeve glanced over his shoulder before entering the boardroom. Tseng had paused in the center of the hall in wait. The collected patience in Tseng’s posture made Reeve raise an eyebrow slightly…Their chance meeting hadn’t been chance, had it?

Seeing the inquisitive shift in Reeve’s expression, Tseng bowed his head. “The Turks will be at your service if you ever need it, Director. Simply ask.”

Reeve frowned. “That won’t be necessary.” He gave no further attention to the Turk as he stepped in the boardroom and closed the doors after him.

The only other two executive board members presently in Midgar awaited him. Seeming to have no idea what to do with his hands, Palmer anxiously alternated between knitting them together on top of the table and taking tentative sips of his tea. Across from him Hojo leaned back in his chair, playing Palmer’s opposite as he did nothing beyond yawning boredly and staring at the ceiling.

“Gentlemen,” Reeve said calmly as he took his seat. 

“My department hasn’t seen any change…” Palmer murmured nervously. “What could we have to talk about?”

“Odds say nothing important,” Hojo replied with a scoff. “As of late, I increasingly hear nothing in these meetings that couldn’t be an email instead.”

Opening his folder and taking out several printouts, Reeve briefly glanced in Hojo’s direction. “You habitually ignore emails, Professor.”

Hojo smirked. “It’s done well for me thus far.”

The projection screen behind the head of the table lit up. Across the continent in Junon, the remaining three board members sat in front of a camera. Flanked by Scarlet and Heidegger, President Rufus leaned the side of his jaw against his knuckles as he observed his side of the feed. “Gentlemen.”

Reeve nodded at the screen, and token greeting came from Hojo and Palmer as well. With a soft clearing of his throat, Reeve began, “I appreciate you taking the time for this, Mr. President.”

“This is going to be quick,” Rufus said stiffly. “Hojo. Report.”

“The readings around the Northern Crater show no change,” he replied with a lazy wave of his hand. “The energy surrounding it is unaffected by conventional, military-grade projectiles, and simple, materia-based magic is completely absorbed. Currently, the teams are constructing simulations that will allow us to gauge how effective larger, mako-based blasts would be.”

Rufus rolled his eyes. “Predictable. Palmer.”

“Th-The, well…” Anxiously drumming his fingers on the table, he cleared his throat sloppily. “All readings suggest Meteor is drawing in space debris to increase its size. The-The, uh…The satellites that went silent seem to have been a direct result.”

Scarlet audibly scoffed.

Rufus’ face gradually turned into a hard scowl. “Communications must stay online. I expect an outline of a solution from your department in two days.”

Turning pale, Palmer’s eyes grew larger. “S-Sir, that…That’s not nearly enough time for a  _ new _ solution. It would take far less time to launch replacement sat—”

“I am not authorizing your department for the mako allotment until the Weapons are dealt with. Find another option. You have two days.”

His jaw going slack, Palmer sickly croaked, “Of—Of course, Mr. President.”

“Reeve.”

“The protests in the Sectors 4 and 5 areas of the undercity have been dispersed for now,” Reeve said steadily, staring down at his reports. “However, the media division has expressed concerns that the response to Shinra’s addressing of Meteor continues to drive down public opinion. Attempts to control the narrative aren’t working, sir,” he said firmly. “I request you return to Midgar and—”

“The narrative will be controlled soon enough,” Scarlet interrupted, her ruby lips curling into a smirk.

Heidegger laughed broadly (much to Rufus’ obvious distaste). “The unconscious AVALANCHE woman’s condition is turning around,” Heidegger announced. “She should be awake in the next few days.”

Reeve’s thoughts came to a halt, and his brow tightened in sudden dismay. “I fail to see how Tifa Lockhart’s condition is relevant,” he said, raising his head to the screen.

Scarlet replied, “You wouldn’t, Reeve, but thinking of anything other than your very, very creepy and, frankly,  _ very _ pathetic puppet obsession is apparently beyond you. The only reason public opinion is an issue is because there is currently no one else to blame.”

“Once the AVALANCHE members are able to be made an example of,” Heidegger added, “then that’s exactly what we’re doing.”

Reeve blinked at the screen dumbly, a cold chill gripping him. “Are you suggesting…?”

“AVALANCHE sympathizers like Veld and Felicia Dragoon should have been dealt with publicly,” Scarlet purred. “It would have silenced dissent. We’re not making the same mistake twice.”

Reeve wasn’t sure when he had stood, but now he was on his feet, his palms on the table. “Mr. President, you can’t be  _ serious! _ There’s nothing to gain from something as grisly as a public execution, the people will  _ know _ it’s a distraction,” he pressed, his hands slipping into white-knuckled fists. “We are supposed to be giving the people  _ answers, _ we are supposed to be the last bastion of order and civility—”

“It is the most  _ civil _ decision to punish crimes against the people of Midgar and the world,” Rufus spat. “These are the people  _ directly _ responsible for the bombing of Sector 1’s reactor, and they conspired with the forces  _ directly _ responsible for Meteor.” Bitterly, he added in a low voice, “Reeve.  _ Sit.” _

Swallowing numbly, Reeve forced himself back in his chair.

Heidegger let out another booming laugh, causing Rufus to clench his teeth and rub his temple. “If she’s not awake by the 20th,” Heidegger said, “then we’ll conduct the execution anyway.”

Reeve finally noticed his fist was clenched so tightly the nails dug into his palm. Tifa and Barret would be murdered in no later than eight days…why hadn’t the others rescued them yet? Could they not reach them?

“So, Reeve,” Rufus said coldly. “You will be handling the coordination of press coverage for the event.”

In bewilderment Reeve’s lip curled. “With all due respect, sir, I’m not sure why you would have me overseeing something so far from my department.”

His gaze stabbing through the distance of the stream, Rufus sat up straighter. “With all due respect, Director, I am losing patience with all three of you.”

Scarlet and Heidegger exchanged knowing grins.

“I am currently speaking to three  _ ridiculously _ unqualified men that I should have discarded the instant I took control of the company,” Rufus pressed. “This moment, I see a board member whose department’s public face is  _ literally _ spearheading efforts to sabotage my company—”

Palmer stared at the tabletop with a pained grimace and curled in on himself.

“—an espionage agent  _ so incompetent  _ at espionage he can’t be  _ bothered _ to inform his superiors when his assignments put public safety at risk—”

Reeve’s lips tightened.

“—and a genetics engineer who has created both a real, living, shape-changing vampire that is breathing down my neck, and an _army_ of clones capable of summoning celestial bodies that threaten _all_ _life_ on Gaia—a man who has done so many projects that break the laws of nature that he _cannot begin to keep track of them.”_

Through this Hojo was unaffected, first glancing at his fingernails and then idly pushing his dark glasses further up his nose. After a pause, Hojo caught on he was meant to make some kind of acknowledgement. He shrugged. “They weren’t important enough to remember.”

A stunned silence fell, all five of the other executives staring at Hojo in disbelief.

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Rufus let out a deep exhale. “So, to readdress your concerns, Mr. Tuesti…I do not  _ care _ if media liaison is not your department. You are going to do it because I told you to. And I will not allow  _ any _ of the three of you to have responsibility over anything more dangerous than a stapler.”

“Well said, Mr. President!” Heidegger affirmed. His wide shoulders rose and fell as boisterous laughter burst from him.

Gritting his teeth, Rufus again rubbed his temples. “If you laugh in my ear one more time I will personally walk you off the end of the cannon, Heidegger.” 

Heidegger’s face fell awkwardly. Without another sound he reached forward and the boardroom screen went blank.

Hojo let out a haggard sigh. “This meeting would have been a  _ fantastic _ email to ignore.”

His face and balding head dotted with sweat, Palmer rubbed his mouth in trepidation. “D-Do you think he’s going to let us go?”

A grim leer crossed Hojo’s thin face. “My dear Palmer, employees at our level are not ‘let go.’ I don’t suppose you ever heard any of the Turks refer to my division as ‘the Retirement Community’?”

Palmer was now turning a sickly shade of green. “Oh…Oh, surely not…”

“It’s certainly cheaper than a separation settlement.” Hojo’s grin then transformed to a resentful sneer, his face darkening. “My only regret is there is no one under my employ worthy of dissecting me,” he growled, his fists clenching. Under his breath he bitterly muttered, “None of those brainless sycophants would appreciate what they’d been given…Would they even know what they were  _ looking _ at?”

“Rufus wouldn’t possibly…!” Palmer blurted in horror, now on his feet. “I’ve been nothing but loyal to Shinra—I’m the  _ victim. _ I was hit by a truck!”

Through this Reeve had been recollecting his papers, performing the motions as robotically as any of his machines. He stood and slid his chair back under the table. “Good day, gentlemen.”

Hojo pulled himself from his chair and slunk around the table. Still blubbering, Palmer followed Hojo out of the room, pressing him for some kind of assurance of their mutual safety. Neither gave the slightest acknowledgement to Reeve as the three parted ways.

His expression blank and his steps measured, Reeve walked to the elevators. As he rode down in silence his hand gripped the folder in a steadily-tightening vise and his breath struggled to remain even. The effort of quelling his emotions was tearing something apart in his chest, like an engine grinding itself without oil. He drew back his hand to throw a punch at the elevator door, but his arm trembled and rebelled against even the most inconsequential show of violence. Shaking, his hand slipped out of a fist and he could only press it against the metal. As the doors opened he stepped out, oblivious to any sounds around him. He only heard his heart pounding and his forced breathing. 

No more. Shinra could take no more from Reeve Tuesti. His youth, his morals and idealism, the hope for a life and family, his dignity, any release from the unrelenting nightmares of the Sector 7 plate’s fall…Veld Dragoon…Sephiroth was Shinra’s creation, so even Aerith and Cloud were taken by Shinra. Reeve had lost too much.

Shinra would not have Tifa or Barret. Sephiroth would not have this world.

Reeve would not let any more be taken.

His footfalls were like stabs into the floor as he passed his administrative assistant’s desk. Her head raised and her mouth opened to speak, but he spun and held up a finger to silence her. “Cancel all of my meetings until further notice.”

It hadn’t been a shout, but the otherness of his voice caused her to jump slightly and she stared at him in shock. “O-Of course, sir.”

Swallowing hard, he forced himself to relax enough to say, “Forgive me. Just…Just keep my schedule free until I say.”

“Yes, Director.”

He locked the door behind him and immediately loosened his tie and tossed his suit coat on his desk. Rolling up his sleeves, he resolutely moved to the tinkering space he had on the far side of his opulent office. Reeve paused in front his workbench, and placed a hand under the chin of his newest Cait Sith model. Raising its head to study its cheerful face, he grit his teeth.

“It’s time to go to work, Cait. Let’s save the world.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of good stuff here, this one of my favorite chapters I've written for this story.
> 
> You ever been so used to holding your tongue you don't even know how to let anything out anymore?
> 
> For those unaware, Veld and Felicia Dragoon are characters only from the Japanese-exclusive cell phone game Before Crisis. While I haven't played it myself, I did a bunch of research in the FF7 Compilation for this story. If you wanna check out the story for yourself, I waded through all the gameplay footage from this Youtube Channel: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLE75858F7C5A3927D It's not exactly *riveting* gameplay to watch, but it's super frustrating how much in Before Crisis ended up playing a huge role in anything made after it, including FF7 Remake.
> 
> The Shinra Exectuive board is a big reason why I started writing Through Another's Eyes to begin with. There's something extremely therapeutic about showing capitalists exactly how I see them. God, all the executives are so fun to write. Especially Hojo. The bit where Hojo talks about the meeting making a better email was a little nod to a group of my favorite streamers at Loading Ready Run. In Graham Stark's full playthrough of the OG he made a joke about the meeting in the Shinra Tower should have been an email. I don't know why that's so funny to me. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9DS06NK4UMg
> 
> EDIT: Also! I wanted to give credit where credit is due, the line Reeve says in the office was heavily inspired by @luvluvguilty on Twitter who drew this adorable image: https://twitter.com/luvluvguilty/status/1033034039601577990
> 
> My version is less adorable, but I love that mental image.  
>   
> 


	7. Live From Junon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reeve sends Cait Sith back out into the world. He can only hope his companions will trust him enough to accept his help in rescuing Tifa and Barret from Shinra.
> 
> Elsewhere, Elmyra hears that Marlene's father is scheduled for execution. How can she possibly stay strong for Marlene?

The knack that Reeve had with puppetry came with an unusual side effect, one that very few ever took seriously: Cait Sith was every bit the fortune teller that he claimed. Cait Sith could know things Reeve couldn’t explain, find things that others couldn’t. It wasn’t perfect clairvoyance, but it was more accurate than not. Perhaps it was some connection to the Lifestream that Reeve’s magical puppets had that he himself didn’t.

While under Shinra employ Reeve had kept his arcane talents to himself. He had wanted his mind to be what mattered, not his magic. Veld had admired and respected Reeve’s knack…Had Veld been the one to tell Rufus about it? It seemed the only way Rufus could have learned and taken advantage of it…

Reeve was thinking of lost friends a lot lately.

Under the heavy shadows of the Junon city proper, Cait Sith’s repaired mount waddled across the worn brick road. The cat waved jovially at any of the village-dwellers that threw them confused looks—after all, in lower Junon there was no risk of Shinra sympathizers. He kept pace with his escort, a young girl by the name of Priscilla. Of his own accord, Cait Sith had deduced she would help him locate the others.

“Is Mr. Cloud okay?” Priscilla asked while she led Cait Sith.

Cait Sith puzzled over the question. Reeve didn’t need to prompt the soothsayer for him to reply, “Aye don’t know. Aye have a feelin’ he’s alive, but Aye just don’t know where, or how he’s doin’.”

Her sandy-brown eyes took a sad turn and she moved wisps of her rusty hair behind her ear. “I hope you guys find him.”

“Aye do too, lass.”

Priscilla’s sandals tapped on the wooden stairs as she hopped up to a raised home, decades of smog damage staining its walls and shingled roof. She motioned for Cait to wait, then knocked on the door in a deliberate rhythm. Waving him to her, Priscilla opened the door to a cozy, welcoming living room. Around the table in the back of the room and next to the kitchen were familiar faces that filled Reeve’s chest with warmth.

With a dramatic flourish, the mooglesaurus pirouetted on its heels, and both it and Cait Sith threw out their arms. “And greetin’s, chums, Cait Sith has arrived!”

Seated in a backwards-turned chair at the table, Cid’s eyebrows raised in shock and his cigarette nearly fell from his mouth. “What…What the _hell_ are you doing here?”

In a blur, Yuffie pounced from her perch on the back of the sofa and landed silently in front of Cait Sith. She yanked him to her face by his tiny, red cape. “Why are you here! Did Shinra send you? Who else knows where we are? Were you followed?!”

Priscilla loudly gasped and covered her mouth. “H-He’s Shinra? But he’s so _cute_ …!”

“Enough. Calm down,” Nanaki snapped, slinking out from under the table. “Let him speak.”

Yuffie let go of Cait and leaned back from him, propping her fists on her hips. “Well? So, talk!” she said impatiently.

“Aye know Aye’ve never earned yer trust,” Cait began cautiously, his ears lowering. “But…the more Aye think of it, the more Aye know how wrong Aye was. For so, so much…” he added sadly. “But now ya need my help. Aye know ye canna get into Junon. Tifa and Barret are still in Shinra hands.”

The group passed looks to each other, and Vincent stepped up to Cait Sith. “The upper city is on lockdown. Thus far we’ve found no way to infiltrate.”

Anxiously, Cait Sith’s mount shuffled its fluffy, pink feet. “There…There’s somethin’ else ya should know,” Cait said. “Barret and Tifa…they’re slated for execution.”

“What?!” Yuffie cried.

“It won’t be made public for another three days,” Cait continued. “But either Tifa wakes up in the next seven days and they go through with it, or she doesn’t and they do it in seven days anyway.”

Cid slammed his fist on the table, crushing his cigarette between his clenched teeth. He plucked it out vengefully and stabbed it into an empty tea cup. “Those sons of bitches think they can pull this shit?!”

“We’ve wasted too much time…!” Nanaki hissed.

Vincent studied Cait Sith, his eyes thinning as he tilted his head subtly. He tapped his chin and mumbled, “Hm. Nothing about you suggests you’re a Turk…But if you know this before it’s announced, your position is much higher than I assumed.”

Reeve often forgot that Vincent was once a Turk himself. “Aye cannae let something so cruel happen to them. Let me help ya.”

Vincent leaned closely enough for him and Cait Sith to see eye to eye. For a moment Reeve saw that same sliver of regret that had hung in his red eyes just before Vincent had said goodbye. “…Does anyone know what you are doing?”

Cait Sith quickly shook his head. “Aye swear it. Not a soul even knows there’s a new Cait Sith runnin’ aboot!”

“We’ve been fooled before,” Yuffie reminded the room (ever the stubborn one).

Vincent continued staring, unblinking, into Cait Sith’s face. Reeve wasn’t entirely sure what Vincent thought he could read from his avatar’s voice or expression…but there was no denying Reeve could feel the scrutiny over the distance. In a low murmur, Vincent whispered, “I gave you a way out. Are you really sure you wish to throw away that chance? There will be no going back this time. No matter how careful you are, they will find out eventually.”

“Ah’m done playin’ safe,” Cait Sith replied with a firm nod. “Aye…Aye can’t turn away from what Shinra’s done anymore…and no matter how hard Aye try, Aye cannae change what they are on their own terms. Aye’ll be fightin’ to clean their midden until the end of my days, so help me. All o’ya put your lives on the line. Aye can risk somethin’ too.”

Vincent’s face softened, and Reeve could see the barest hints of a smile as he straightened. “He’s telling the truth.”

“If you think so, Vincent,” Nanaki affirmed with a nod, “then I’ll believe him as well.”

Cid chuckled, pulling himself from his seat. “Fine, fine. Same here.”

Yuffie clicked her tongue loudly as the rest of the room awaited her response. “Don’t push it.”

Nanaki padded up to Cait Sith, sitting tall at his feet. “If you are offering help, does that mean you have a plan?”

Cait Sith nodded, patting his open palm with his fist. “This is cuttin’ it close, but we cannae make a move until the day of the execution. Security’s got no holes until then.”

Yuffie scoffed and heaved herself back on top of the sofa. “I’m not liking the way this is going.”

“But security _will_ have a hole?” Vincent asked cooly.

Allowing an impish smirk, Cait Sith gave Vincent the thumbs up. “Shinra wants this as public as possible. There’ll be outside press allowed into the city. And Aye can make sure at least a few of us can get in.”

Doubtfully, Cid scoffed and shook his head. “Enh, I mean, it’s a nice suggestion. But Vince and Nanaki ain’t passin’ off as press, and there ain’t anybody Shinra that won’t know _this_ mug,” he added, gesturing to himself.

Cait Sith propped his chin in his palm, locking his gaze with Yuffie and grinning largely.

Yuffie curled her lip and leaned back incredulously. “Wait. You mean just _me?”_

“Nonsense!” Cait chirped, the mooglesaurus pointing to itself with its thumbs. “Aye happen to be a super-spy and a master of disguise, ye know.”

“…So, you’re saying I’m gonna have to go in with _you_ as my backup?”

Reeve took more offense to the way Yuffie said that than he would have imagined. “Not just me. Cid, Nanaki, Vincent…ye’ll be handling a vital piece of this plan.” Cait took a short pause for emphasis, and held out a hand toward the three. “I have detailed maps of security around the airport. We’re gon’ ta steal the _Highwind.”_

An exaggerated snap of a lighter announced Cid readying a new cigarette. As he took a deep first drag, a hungry smile came to him—smoke trailed from his lips as he chuckled darkly. “Alright, cat. That’s all you had to say. Let’s goddamn do this.”

* * *

The last two days had been a nightmare. Marlene had been asleep two nights ago while Emlyra had borrowed one of her coloring books and sat in the kitchen. There was something relaxing about it, nostalgic as she recalled doing the same thing when Aerith was younger but not since. Maybe she needed to get one of those more complicated, adult ones for herself. She filled in images of sickeningly-cute, chubby chocobos with the TV on as background noise. That was when she had heard Tifa and Barret’s names.

She spun on the screen, her stomach lurching as though the floor had given way. The Midgar-based commentators were discussing the gravity and necessity for a public execution of known AVALANCHE members. Shinra was going to take the last of Marlene’s family away from her. 

Reeve hadn’t contacted Elmyra in over a week, and every one of her desperate calls went to voicemail. He had promised to protect them, and when Elmyra needed him most had disappeared. Shinra had no plans to even inform the condemned man’s child…

She didn’t allow Marlene near a phone or a TV, wouldn’t allow her outside and risk accidentally hearing the news. Marlene was distraught at Elmyra’s lack of explanation, and kept begging her to explain what Marlene had done wrong. Elmyra didn’t have an answer. She wasn’t supposed to have to raise Marlene in her father’s stead. Barret Wallace had said he was willing to risk everything, but Elmyra hadn’t been willing to replace him. She wasn’t ready to have to explain cruelty this unjust to a child like Marlene. Elmyra hadn’t been ready to lose Aerith. She hadn’t been ready to face the grim reality of Meteor. She wasn’t ready.

Elmyra was going out of her mind and would surely drag Marlene down with her. 

Marlene had protested being served bitter tea in the middle of the day, but had finally relented. Elmyra was deeply ashamed of herself that she was willing to resort to a sleeping herb, but she simply couldn’t allow Marlene to watch the live feed with Elmyra, and Elmyra couldn’t face not knowing.

She sat at the table, her eyes locked onto the TV. Holding her phone in a white-knuckled grip, Elmyra repeatedly called Reeve as she stared at the feed in a numb haze—simply hanging up and redialing each time voicemail picked up. Director Scarlet began her address to the world and Elmyra felt her throat constricting in agony. The way that woman _smiled_ at a time like this…!

When Tifa and Barret were brought forward Elmyra felt a surge of nausea festering in the pit of her stomach. Tifa looked at death’s door already. A distinctly pale, sickly pallor colored her face and her eyes were red and tired. Two security officers had to prop her up to walk, it didn’t look like she had eaten in days. What had those monsters _done_ to her?

Barret trudged behind Tifa, a resentful defiance in his eyes. While flashes went off around him, he scowled directly into the camera—as though he could see and judge Emlyra through the screen.

Elmyra stood and turned away, letting out a choked sound as she clutched the phone viciously. It was back to dialing. “You bastard…” she whispered shakily. “You coward…!”

The phone picked up. 

“Reeve!” she blurted, shaking as she brought the phone to her ear. “I—Why? _Why?”_

His voice tense, Reeve replied, “Listen, I don’t have time—”

 _“You son of a bitch!”_ she screamed into the receiver. “Why couldn’t you stop them! You-You—What am I supposed to tell her? Shinra’s _ruined_ us. You _ruined_ us.”

“El—”

“And you wouldn’t say until it was too late, you coward—! How could you? Just—You could have _done_ something, I know you _could_ have. You’re a goddamn _board_ member…!” Elmyra’s voice broke and she buried her face in her hand. “You…You said you would protect Marlene…You said you would protect Aerith…”

A heavy silence passed on the other end, though she could hear trembling breaths. “Elmyra. Get Marlene’s friend.”

 _“What?!”_ she snapped, stunned. “Is-Is that all you have to say?”

“Get him.”

Reeve hung up.

Letting out a shocked cry, Elmyra tried to reconnect and Reeve continued to ignore her. She sloppily sniffed and rubbed her nose, then a sound reached her and she stopped.

“—as the entity known as Sapphire Weapon approaches Junon.”

Her prior thoughts screeching to an abrupt halt, Elmyra spun back to the TV. The news she was watching no longer showed the press room, and was now instead in the middle of the streets of Junon and fighting to get clear footage of an ominous wave—its trajectory aimed directly at the city.

Her jaw dropping, Elmyra rushed to Marlene’s room. Marlene was still in a deep slumber, and in her arms layed Cait Sith. Elmyra very cautiously pulled the plush from her lethargic grip, and Marlene made no reaction other than a subtle sigh as she rolled over.

“I’m so sorry, dear,” Elmyra whispered, moving several brown strands away from her round face.

Elmyra ran up the stairs back to the kitchen, then sat facing the TV and plopped the stuffed cat in front of her. For a moment she watched the lifeless cat anxiously, her hands balled into fists on her knees. 

It stirred. Elmyra sat up straighter, in awe of the fact that Reeve’s talent could reach the toy from wherever he was. Feebly at first, the cat heaved itself to its feet and looked up at Elmyra with its plastic, printed eyes. It eased up to her and gently patted her hand.

Wiping her face, Elmyra sniffed largely. “I—I’m just so scared, Reeve,” she whispered. “What’s happening? Did—Did they…?”

Cait Sith tilted its head slightly, then looked around the surface of the table. Spotting Marlene’s crayons and a coloring book, the plush waddled its way to the paper and awkwardly struggled to pick up a crayon with its mitten-like hands. Elmyra helped the plush get a good grip on it, and Cait Sith nodded to her in gratitude. Elmyra watched it drag the crayon across a page with its limited strength, and bit by bit spelled out, _Destroy phone._

In surprise, Elmyra’s jaw fell open as she soaked in the words. Slowly, she held up her phone and pointed to it, lowering an eyebrow in confusion.

With exaggerated motions, the plush nodded.

Everything and everyone was insane, why _not_ destroy a very expensive phone if a toy told her to? Elmyra rushed to the sink and filled a large glass with water, then went back to the table and hesitated only once before dropping it in. The screen flickered in a multitude of colors and then went dark.

Cait gave her a thumbs up and a nod, then tapped the word “destroy” with the crayon meaningfully.

“I-I’ll take a hammer to it later,” she promised.

Again it gave her a thumbs up, then gradually amended the word “phone” to now read, _I’ll send new phone._

Elmyra covered her mouth. Something very important was happening and she wasn’t sure how to process it in the middle of the rest of her swirling emotions. “Reeve…Please, tell me what’s going on. You haven’t called in almost two weeks, Marlene is scared— _I’m_ scared!”

Cait Sith made a motion like scratching its temple, then held up a hand to her and shook its head. Before she could argue, it then leaned over another edge of the page and spelled out “No” and “Yes.”

Catching its meaning, Elmyra sighed and nodded. “Right, this can’t talk. I get it, I get it. Reeve, is…” She took a deep breath to steel herself for the question. “Is Barret Wallace alive?”

Spinning once on its heels in delight, it pointed to “yes.”

A relieved laugh tumbled from her, and Elmyra was overtaken by happy tears. She leaned her elbows on the edge of the table, burying her face in her hands as her shoulders shook from the release of stress. It took several moments to begin to think straight again. Wiping away moisture, she took deep breaths to recompose herself.

“Tifa?” she asked.

Hopping up and down happily it repeatedly tapped its foot on “yes.”

This time Elmyra was unable to restrain herself. She grabbed the plush and held it in a fierce hug, laughing and squeezing it. “Reeve…Thank you. Thank you!” Holding it out from herself, she jumped to her feet. _“You_ did this, didn’t you? You _did_ stop them.”

The plush nodded largely.

“I’m so sorry I doubted you,” Elmyra whispered. “I said such awful things…!” Oh, she had even just blamed Reeve for Aerith’s death…! In horror at her own words, her eyes grew wide and her face paled. “What I said, I didn’t mean it. Reeve, I promise I don’t blame you for…I was just so upset…”

Cait shook its head and flopped a hand at her dismissively.

As humble as always. Rubbing her eyes with a small laugh, Elmyra sat back down, but kept Cait in her arms for comfort. It was incredibly soft, no wonder Marlene never wanted to let it go. Elmyra considered her next questions, but wracked her brain trying to think of ones that a simple “yes” or “no” would answer.

Finally, a distressing realization rose above her fevered thoughts. “Reeve…Have…you gone rogue? From Shinra?”

The plush stared at her for an uncomfortably long time. It nodded.

Pressing a hand to her chest, her face contorted in worry. “Oh, Reeve…A-Are you safe?”

Without pause this time, the plush nodded.

Doubtfully, Emlyra’s lips tightened. “Are you…sure?”

Again it nodded, now adding a thumbs up for emphasis.

Letting out a long sigh, Elmyra closed her eyes for a moment. “Alright. You had better not be lying to me.”

Cait gestured to the table, and she gently stood the doll back on the surface. It trotted to the coloring book page covered in writing, then wrote “page” under “destroy.”

The lengths that Reeve was going through to ensure the conversation wouldn’t be tracked worried Elmyra, but she supposed it was better to be cautious than not. She ripped the page out of the coloring book and tore it into small pieces. For good measure she shoved the shreds in the glass with the bobbing cell phone.

Cait silently clapped at the thoroughness. It then dropped the crayon and began tapping one set of its mitten fingers to its opposite wrist.

Elmyra curled her lip as she studied the motion. “Time? Are you out of time?”

The toy nodded repeatedly in reply.

Exhausted from the sudden absolution of the last few days’ emotions, Elmyra let out a ragged sigh. “I understand.” Gently, she took the toy’s hands in her fingers and smiled. “Please take care of yourself. I’ll wait for that phone. Next time, don’t you dare let me go to voicemail.”

Cait Sith eased itself from her subtle hold to pat her hand comfortingly. Still staring up into her eyes, the doll gradually sank to the table.

For a time Elmyra didn’t move, stroking the toy’s head as though it were a living cat sleeping in an undignified heap. Her stinging eyes drifted back to the TV. On the screen, Shinra security attempted to block cameras from recording the path of an airship escaping Junon. Beside these images were the gruesome shots of the mutilated Sapphire Weapon and its lifeless descent into the harbor. 

While talking heads from Midgar colored the events as a disaster and rushed for commentary from Shinra media reps, Elmyra grinned at the broadcast. She eased herself from her chair and moved to a drawer. Pulling out a hammer, she found herself flipping it in her hands and snickering in glee. She discarded the pulpy water from the glass into the sink, and all but sauntered to the stone steps outside the house. 

Elmyra set the water-logged phone on the ground and raised the hammer. With furious swings she smashed the Shinra-provided cell phone, watching glass and circuitry flying across the cobblestone. She imagined every single sickening crack and crunch could be felt by every last Shinra employee who had dared threaten Marlene’s family and swung harder in pleasure.

As petty and tiny a gesture as it was, Elmyra hadn’t felt so good in months. Bringing herself to her feet, panting deeply, she admired the unrecognizable shards. She hoped Reeve had felt even half as good to stick it to Shinra. She couldn’t wait to ask.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has some of my favorite moments so far, especially Elmyra speaking with the plush. 
> 
> Cait Sith is actually a fortune teller and he wasn't just making it up. Before Crisis had this, including the fact that Reeve had to ask Cait Sith for information, meaning his puppets know things he doesn't. Oh, and Cait Sith is absolutely a super spy. I could have drawn any number of things from this chapter, but I can't stop laughing at Reeve's idea of a brilliant disguise (oh my God, this nerd). Although, please recall that disguise *worked.*
> 
> Don't be too hard on Elmyra. Sometimes there's no good way to face something too horrifying.  
>   
> 


	8. Sister's Relocation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reeve is juggling multiple lives, and once again the two are violently at odds. Maintaining his cover means putting Midgar in potential danger.

Once Cloud was lucid and in charge of the group’s efforts to stop Sephiroth again, there was no denying that Barret’s train metaphors were accurate. Reeve was on a speeding train with these renegades, and either they stayed on the tracks until a successful end or they would careen off the rails together—and the consequences would not be pretty. 

Reeve was living so many lives by this point it was impossible to juggle them all. He had crashed in his office plenty of times during his career, but he had tried not to make it a habit—fooling himself into thinking he still had time of his own that Shinra wasn’t stealing. Now he passed out on his office’s couch nightly. Keeping his attention with the renegades as often as possible meant cramming the majority of his actual employment’s responsibilities at every other waking moment. Preventing projects and concerns from piling up was the only way he could possibly keep his cover as a loyal Shinra Director going. 

Reeve attended executive meetings in person, absolutely everything else was done from his desk remotely or delegated. However, Reeve was quickly running out of loyal subordinates to delegate to. Huge numbers of Shinra employees made every effort to get out of Midgar—not so much as abandoning responsibilities outright, but suddenly and miraculously finding that more and more their duties were able to be done by email alone…or dumping them on those lower in the hierarchy who had no option to refuse. The staff hemorrhaging ceased once Rufus made the order that all Shinra employees stationed at headquarters were required to remain in Midgar until further notice. All scheduled vacations were canceled, and even sick days were being denied in every department.

The strain on HR and company-wide morale in Midgar was just another problem that slid across Reeve’s desk, but he couldn’t begrudge the staff their growing hopelessness. After all, as the days passed into two weeks, the violently acid-purple tinge to the sky over the city was unavoidable. Reeve would awake from nightmare-filled dreams to find the real nightmare still hanging over the Shinra tower and growing closer.

Reeve also had to allow that the populace’s despair was exponentially greater than any Shinra grievances. Each request Reeve made for manpower met with rejection, so efforts to ensure infrastructure could handle the demand for exit out of Midgar were futile. The citizenry on both the plates and in the undercity were trapped. Protests erupted daily, and the threat of riot loomed. Reeve was running out of solutions that felt like anything other than bandages on bullet wounds, and Heidegger’s only contribution was a tighter and tighter grip on the populace. Curfews, patrols in every corner of the city, and the heel of Shinra’s boot pressing harder on an already desperate city. None on the board saw where such tactics were inevitably leading, or maybe Scarlet and Heidegger welcomed the chance for all-out warfare on civilians. Never once had either shown restraint in the matter before.

Just over two weeks ago Reeve had admired Rufus’ unwavering strength against the Weapons. In the span of those eighteen days Rufus repeatedly proved that admiration had been misplaced. Rufus callously crushed the hopes of the populace under his feet and did nothing to reign in his bloodthirsty immediate subordinates. Reeve had no respect left, just a resentful desire that Cloud and his companions would thwart every last effort that Rufus made. Stolen airships, submarines, and Huge Materia, the many military casualties, and a failed missile mission—Reeve couldn’t deny the twisted pleasure he took in watching the executive board’s plans fall apart at every turn.

And especially how Reeve’s information and remote participation was directly responsible for Rufus’ numerous failures.

This day Reeve sat at his desk over a cup of coffee, rubbing his forehead as he briefly turned his attention away from emails and back to Cait Sith’s point of view. The  _ Highwind _ was still parked beside the Forgotten City. The rebels had escorted the scholar Bugenhagen to help determine what secrets the Ancients once held that would stop Meteor. Mechanical din and engine roars rang in his ears and it took a few moments for Reeve to remember the  _ Highwind _ wasn’t currently running. 

In annoyance, Reeve spun his chair to face the window, and slowly his eyes grew wider in shock. Easing out of his chair, he dumbly soaked in the sight of a full Shinra force descending on Midgar: cargo planes air-lifting massive rings, mechs, trucks, and troops escorting scaffolding, mako siphons, and the recognizable components of the Junon cannon. Slowly shaking his head in disbelief, Reeve rubbed his face and ran his hands through his hair. 

Junon’s cannon was being moved to Midgar?  _ That’s _ why it had been dismantled? Rufus had personally shot down Reeve’s infrastructure requests but there were magically enough resources to move Junon’s cannon  _ in its entirety?! _

Stunned bewilderment and seething rage battling in his gut, Reeve snatched his suit coat off the back of his chair and threw it on. He burst through the doors of his office, startling his poor, beleaguered assistant as he stormed out. He had no explanations to offer her, if he allowed himself to speak at that moment it was not likely to be in anything other than incoherent screaming.

The elevator ride to the President’s office allowed Reeve time to at least put on some veneer of civility. Nearly twenty years of practice had made him a master at swallowing down disgust in front of his superiors and peers. Reeve walked into Rufus’s office, finding Scarlet and Heidegger bragging about their joint feat of engineering to the President. It was currently an orchestra of grandiose self-aggrandizement and dueling grating laughter.

Rufus noted Reeve’s arrival, pushing aside his bangs from his forehead. “Good. I didn’t have to call you in, Reeve.”

As he approached the polished, imposing desk, Reeve mustered the last bits of composure necessary to address the President calmly. “Mr. President, why wasn’t I informed of the mako cannon’s relocation to Midgar?”

Heidegger grinned largely, stroking his beard. “You haven’t figured out by now you’re not necessary for  _ most _ plans?”

Rufus idly waved off Heidegger, silencing him. “The movement of the canon was not your concern. The installment of it is.”

Uneasily, Reeve cleared his throat. Now that his head was steady enough to think logically, the only benefit to moving the cannon to Midgar pieced together in his mind instantly. “Mr. President, I cannot stress enough how dangerous it will be to force all mako production into this cannon. There are so many ways using Midgar’s power as ammunition for this monstrosity can go wrong.”

Scarlet’s eyes thinned combatively and she stepped up to him. “My cannon was made to convert unfathomable mako input. It is flawless. Why do you think your city can’t handle it?”

Reeve gawked at her.  _ “My _ cit—? Scarlet, this is not some ludicrous contest of pride. It’s a matter of simple mechanics. This city was made to refine and distribute mako and to power itself.  _ Never _ has it had the power grid to support a weapon of that size.”

“I do not like repeating myself, Reeve,” Rufus snapped. “It is your job to install it. I do not care what laws of physics you have to break to make it happen, the three of you will  _ make _ it happen and have this cannon ready to fire as soon as possible.”

“Of course, Mr. President!” Heidegger immediately affirmed, hooking his wide fingers under his lapels. “Every bit of manpower Shinra has will be here to expedite the process.”

“I will certainly do my best, though it would be much simpler without dragging dead weight,” Scarlet said, adding a sneer to Reeve.

Reeve tightened his lips, nodding once. “…Not to suggest I am refusing a direct order, Mr. President…but I do ask you to consider that even in a best-case scenario the entire city  _ will _ go dark—possibly for long periods of time. Essential services on the plate have backup, alternate power, but the undercity does not. You will potentially be leaving thousands without power for even their medical facilities, with no guarantee of when it will come back.”

Heidegger grinned. “Perhaps the refuse shouldn’t have settled for the  _ slums, _ Tuesti.”

Reeve’s fist clenched unconsciously.

Rufus firmly stood from his seat, his face in a hard scowl. “Spare me the tears of the populace, Reeve. The lives of every man, woman, and child on this planet are in our hands, and it is our responsibility to save this world. And I do not care if a single person in Midgar, and especially the slums, is grateful for it.” He moved from around his desk up to Scarlet and Reeve, staring them both down. “The two of you  _ will _ get this cannon operational immediately, and you absolutely don’t have to like each other to do it. We  _ will _ fire on the Northern Crater, and there will be nothing left of Sephiroth to threaten this planet. We will.  _ Obliterate. _ Sephiroth.”

Scarlet’s smug bravado drained and she awkwardly glanced away from his gaze. “Of course, Mr. President.”

Reeve swallowed hard. “Of course, Mr. President.”

* * *

Having to work side by side with Scarlet meant having barely a moment to himself to breathe, much less to check in with those on the  _ Highwind. _ Reeve had never had the opportunity to work directly with her, their departments never had the necessity of overlap. When devoting herself to a task, Scarlet focused with laser precision and the relentlessness of any of her weapons of war. To Reeve’s shock, she even moderated both her passive and outright aggression while engrossed in projects. She was as brilliant as she was brutal, and it took all of Reeve’s energy to keep pace. He had already been running on empty, a heightened lack of sleep did Reeve no favors.

The two walked down one of the catwalks, around them a cacophony of construction. Scarlet unrepentantly violated every safety regulation for a job site, her stilettos stabbing into the metal walkways, and bereft of a hard hat to prioritize her pristine coiffure. Her blue eyes monitored the mechanics, construction workers, and temporarily-reassigned military rank and file at work attaching the cannon’s massive cabling. “I must admit, Reeve,” she said calmly. “I’m impressed your department pulled through.”

Adjusting his hard hat, Reeve allowed himself a satisfied smile. No matter how repugnant the project, it was hard not to feel pride at how competently and swiftly it had come together in less than three days. “They can tell how important this is. This may be our best shot at saving the world.”

Scarlet nodded, then frowned. “My teams have something to learn from yours. It’s been pulling teeth with these cretins.”

The teams honestly had little to learn from each other as far as morale, and the likelihood that Scarlet would deduce where the real issue layed was nil. Reeve changed the subject with, “There’s still a few things to get done before a test of the mako diversion is ready.” 

“If it’s about the inhibitors, don’t bother,” she scoffed with a wave of her hand. “I had them dismantled, the charge capacity simply isn’t able to reach any kind of timely efficiency with them in place.”

Reeve stopped directly in her way, staring into her eyes with brand sparkling new revulsion. “Are you  _ insane?” _ he hissed. 

“This cannon has to fire twice,” she seethed back, holding up her fingers.  _ “Twice. _ That is as far as it needs to function at full capacity. Once we all are sipping cocktails over our victory,  _ then _ we can focus on restructuring the safety systems permanently.”

“The measures wouldn’t have added that much time onto the schedule,” Reeve pressed, now completely derailed from any issues he was going to address prior. “And by our count the load time was s—”

“It would have added a week, and no, a cooling time of six hours was  _ not  _ acceptable.”

“It’s a  _ stationary _ target!”

Stepping up to Reeve’s face, Scarlet’s eyes flashed furiously. “And every second in between the first and second shots is time Sephiroth has to retaliate.”

In frustration, Reeve slapped the folder in his hand against the catwalk railing, not noticing he had slipped into his Highland accent: “He’s a torso in a  _ rock,  _ ya tube!” 

Scarlet’s fury evaporated instantly and she blinked at him in shock. She opened her mouth to speak, then her expression altered to amusement. She propped a hand on her hip and laughed loudly, placing her fingers near her chin. “Oh, yes. You  _ were _ there. How could I forget about your silly, little cat friend so easily? Every time I begin to take you seriously, you remind me you’re a grown man who plays with stuffies.” Turning away fully, she threw her head back. “No  _ wonder _ a sentimental fool like you isn’t married—who could you possibly bring in your bedroom that wouldn’t run the second they see how many you must have on the bed?” A new thought reached her and her eyes lit up in delight. “Oh! Oh, and how  _ miserable _ you must have been for your poor, little kitty to get blown to itty-bitties!”

As contemptuous fits continued to shake Scarlet’s shoulders, Reeve glowered at her. His mind cycled through the various spells that Cait Sith had mastered by this point that would have been thrilling to watch inflicted on her. Bahamut would be pleased to meet her. Well, that wasn’t an equivalent response—maybe just ask Yuffie to get Leviathan to shove her around a bit. Not in any permanently-damaging way—no, just a few moist tail slaps every time Scarlet tried to pick herself up. 

Reeve then noted another figure idly strolling further down the catwalk and his brow knitted. “You didn’t call Hojo, did you?”

Her mockery finally dried, fanning herself with her hand and letting out heavy breaths to regain composure. Scarlet threw a glance to where the Professor walked, his hands folded behind his back as he swept his eyes over the site. “I most certainly did not,” she murmured. “I take it you didn’t?”

“He doesn’t lend any kind of expertise to the project, no.”

Her lips thinning into a line, Scarlet stepped up to Hojo firmly. “Professor.”

“Chairwoman,” Hojo replied dully, his eyes still drifting over the cannon components (and he also was without a hard hat. Why did fate mock Reeve like this when the obvious was  _ right there?) _ . “Tell me, how close is the cannon to operational?”

“By the end of the evening, not that it’s relevant to you,” Scarlet said with a smirk.

“It’s not ready without rerouting measures,” Reeve grumbled to her with a frown.

She smiled at him, acid dripping from every curve. “It’s ready.”

“It’s not.”

Scarlet placed a finger on Reeve’s lips, making him flinch from her. “It’s  _ ready.” _

His eyes shifting between the two of them, Hojo arched a sharp eyebrow. “Hm. Then you’ve kept in mind the simulations that suggest a direct hit on the exposed crater will have no effect?”

Reeve and Scarlet glanced at each other, and Reeve rubbed his beard. “Which one is this? The last I checked that wasn’t the case.”

Chuckling, Hojo propped an elbow in his palm and gestured casually. “That’s interesting. I’ve been ordered to send any reports directly to the President—and only the President. It must be coincidence if the two of you are missing anything.”

While Reeve considered this and his face grew hard in concern, Scarlet immediately lashed back. “I’ve been kept abreast of every one of the President’s plans,” she snapped. “You, on the other hand, have been delegated to doing as little as possible, Professor. Don’t get it in your sick, twisted, little mind that you have some clout that I don’t.”

His eyebrows raised in mock offense, Hojo’s eyes met with hers only a moment before they glanced back up at the massive mako tubing. “Oh. Clout? Is it a matter of clout?” he mused, rubbing his chin. 

No, nothing was ever a matter of clout with Hojo. Scarlet should have known better by now. There was something Hojo expected to happen that no one else had picked up on, and, as usual, didn’t plan to let anyone else in on his theories until too late. Reeve’s lack of sleep had to be the main reason he had never considered the consequences of the second shot—or maybe just how invested Reeve had become in the project’s success. While Scarlet continued to ensure a completely unimpressed Hojo about her standing as the President’s right hand, Reeve studied Hojo and followed as they meandered down the catwalks. 

Why would a direct hit with no barrier potentially not work? There was no denying that Sephiroth had tied himself to the Northern Crater and its perpetually cycling pulse of the Lifestream…

Wait. He hadn’t. Sephiroth was no longer just physical…he traveled wherever the Lifestream did.

Reeve cut both of them off mid-sentence: “Are you suggesting a second shell would only feed the Lifestream? Not destroy the crater?”

Hojo paused and a grin tugged at his lips. “Hm? A mechanical engineer you may be, but you’re  _ almost _ clever, Tuesti.”

“Of course the crater would be destroyed,” Scarlet scoffed, sneering at them both. “The laws of physics still apply to land masses.”

His grin widening briefly, Hojo shrugged. “You’re right, of course.” He turned away and wandered off, slipping his hands into his lab coat pockets. “It would be impossible for a powerful enough shot to not wipe the Northern Crater off the map.” 

But could it possibly destroy a target existing half-way in the Lifestream?

Taking off his hardhat momentarily to slick his hair back, Reeve took a deep breath and let it out uneasily. “There might be something to that, Scarlet.”

She rolled her eyes. “Is there any time that you  _ can’t _ find an excuse to cower?”

Both of their phones let out notification chimes, and they glanced at each other. Straightening, Scarlet walked purposefully toward the stairs leading to the Shinra building interior. “The President will have less patience for your stalling.”

Side by side, Reeve and Scarlet made the trek to the President’s office in silence. During the ascent in the elevator, Reeve tapped the hard hat against his knuckles, deep in thought. He  _ wanted _ something as easy as a cannon blast to work. He couldn’t lie to himself about it. Or maybe he just wanted Shinra to succeed in this one thing, feel like an effort Reeve was a part of had helped others unequivocally. Or that at least some part of an eighteen-year career wasn’t bloodstained.

Finally, Scarlet and Reeve arrived in the office to find Rufus and Heidegger already awaiting them.

“I got the word from my officers,” Heidegger announced as they approached.  _ “Excellent  _ work on the relocation.”

Reeve began, “There are still some minor adjustments I would recommend before a test is done.”

From his chair, Rufus frowned. “No tests have been done already?”

Reeve shook his head. “The last of the construction is still wrapping up.”

“What ‘adjustments’ are you hoping to spend time on?” Rufus asked, clear impatience in his words.

Smiling forcefully, Scarlet meaningfully rested the point of one heel into the top of Reeve’s shoe. “The cannon is ready. Any adjustments can be made once Sephiroth is destroyed and the cannon is a permanent fixture in Midgar. By tonight it will be ready to fire.”

Gritting his teeth, Reeve’s eyes dug into Scarlet. “Inhibitors to prevent possible overload would—”

Rufus interrupted, “Scarlet. Will the cannon fire without them?”

“Of course,” she assured him, the gentle lean of her heel now a painful grind. She then let off her weight. “The only way we could have been under deadline was to accept that greater firepower would mean less margin for error.”

Rufus considered this. “Is the risk for overload great?”

With a light sigh, Reeve replied honestly, “With the controls being manual, no.”

“Director Tuesti himself has full control of the input and output from all of the reactors,” Scarlet added. “There are also emergency controls on the cannon itself that a team will be monitoring through the entire process.”

Rufus allowed a grin. “Then I fail to see a problem.”

As Scarlet stepped forward to explain the intricacies of the conversion of Midgar’s power into a concentrated blast, Reeve kicked himself internally. Even pretending that a project like this could have gone forward without the potential of Midgar’s citizenry getting shoved directly in harm’s way was dangerously naive. He had to warn Cloud and the others of how quickly this was happening, and it couldn’t wait until Reeve had the chance to get privacy. 

Connecting with Cait Sith directly in front of Rufus was an extremely dangerous proposition. Rufus would know what Reeve was doing if he noticed. But while Scarlet and Heidegger were patting themselves on the back there was a chance…

Reeve folded his arms to appear as attentive to the current conversation as possible. He then adjusted his view to Cait Sith, finding him currently staring at a wall in an empty corner of the  _ Highwind’s _ middle deck. Reeve had a very bad feeling about finding Cait in this position. On top of everything else he had to worry about, a possibly buggy Cait Sith was not something Reeve had time for.

Reeve commanded Cait to contact Cloud’s phone directly, but Cait only scratched behind his ear. In growing frustration Reeve repeatedly pushed Cait to follow his orders, internally grumbling to himself about his luck. He didn’t notice Cloud had already answered until Reeve heard him say, “…What? What are you saying?”

Struggling to not show any outward change on his face, Reeve collected himself. Cait said, “Sorry, Aye was just surprised…”

Concerned, Cloud asked, “Why? What happened?”

“D’ye remember when the Junon cannon disappeared? It wasn’t dismantled, Rufus had it moved.”

Cloud paused. “Moved it? That giant thing? Where? …Why?”

“Rufus thinks he can destroy Sephiroth with it,” Cait replied. “The cannon operates on Huge Materia, but Shinra’s runnin’ a bit low on those since tryin’ to shoot ‘em to space. Since the cannon won’t work without ‘em, he ordered it moved to where enough mako could be gathered to replace ammunition entirely.”

Another pause. “…And where’s that?”

“There’s only one place that can gather mako in comparative amounts at once,” Reeve informed Cloud. “Midgar.”

The phone in Reeve’s pocket rang and he flinched in surprise. He pulled it out to see a call from the project manager. “Pardon me,” he said to Rufus and the other chairpeople. Clearing his throat, he turned away from them and answered the phone. After a short exchange with the site manager, Reeve swallowed and nodded. “Thank you for your hard work,” he said in the most supportive tone he could muster. “Well done.” Hanging up, he turned back.

Heidegger smiled hungrily. “Then it’s ready?”

Reeve nodded, outwardly neutral. “After a short systems test, it will be ready to fire.”

“When possible, congratulate your teams on my behalf,” Rufus offered to the three of them. “And begin preparations immediately.”

Reeve could see the renegades attempting to make sense of what was happening in Midgar in the periphery of his vision, but couldn’t yet offer them explanation beyond what Cait Sith could describe independently. All of this was escalating so quickly…he needed some kind of cover…“I should head back to the site for the tests,” Reeve said firmly.

“No,” Rufus said. “Your teams are more than capable enough to finish this. I want us to be ready to begin the instant we’re given word. It’s your job to adjust the reactor output. I want you here.”

Despite his anxiety, Reeve nodded. “…I see. Of course, Mr. President.”

An eager energy in her posture, Scarlet grinned darkly. “Don’t worry yourself too much over the details, Reeve. The instant the mako lines are diverted the system will go full speed!” She punctuated this with a sharp stab of her finger toward the north-facing windows. 

Heidegger roared with laughter, his barrel chest shaking. “Mr. President, you’ve done it this time—a stroke of genius. With nothing left of Sephiroth, Meteor will be finished.”

Throwing a glare at Heidegger, Scarlet added, “Let’s not forget it was my idea to use mako directly in lieu of shells in the first place.”

Tapping a finger on his jaw, Rufus asked, “And you’re sure the beam will reach the Northern Crater?”

After a sharp laugh, Scarlet waved aside his concerns. “Of course! We’ve made every allowance for distance and the curvature of Gaia’s surface. If anything, Mr. President, what we have truly done is  _ redefine _ the limits of modern warfare. A completely mako-fueled blast can reach distances  _ impossible _ with conventional shells.” Strolling to the main windows, her hips swaying with each measured step, she turned with a sweep of an arm and faced the room. “But, Mr. President, don’t simply call this feat of engineering a mere ‘mako cannon.’ Her full name is the Sister Ray!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my favorite sections of the original game begins! Here there be dragons, my loves: I based the dialogue off of a more accurate translation of the PS1 game, but I'm also setting up motivations and interactions for where this AU is headed. :D
> 
> Also, this illustration has to be one of the funniest damn things I've ever done and I'm a bit frustrated it's for a fan thing and not my own. -_-;;  
>   
> 


	9. Dropping Character

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sister Ray is powering up to fire on the Northern Crater, but Shinra leadership quickly finds a more pressing problem approaching Midgar. Reeve also finds that this latest Cait Sith is having more problems than he thought.

Cait Sith hopped his way to the main deck of the  _ Highwind, _ but was nearly thrown off the walkway by an abrupt vibration rattling the ship. Reeve had trouble keeping his eyes focused on Cait Sith struggling to steady himself. His attention jerked back to Rufus’ office as Heidegger’s phone rang loudly. 

Heidegger answered, about to berate whoever was interrupting important matters, but then his chiseled face went pale. “Y-You’re sure?” he pressed. After a pause he barked into the phone, “Keep your eyes on it. Make  _ damn _ sure you know it’s headed here! Get your asses moving.” He aggressively hung up his phone, then looked up at everyone in Rufus’ office awaiting explanation with unease. “Mr…Mr. President, the Weapon designated Diamond is headed straight for Midgar.”

Rufus was suddenly on his feet, and both Scarlet and Reeve gawked in dismay. Stepping from around his desk, he pointed at Scarlet and Reeve. “Sister Ray must be ready, and whatever amount of mako you feed that cannon had better take out  _ both _ Diamond Weapon and the northern barrier simultaneously. We cannot allow that thing to interfere! Heidegger, get your men ready to lure Diamond Weapon into the line of fire. I will meet you all in the boardroom as soon as I can. We get  _ one shot _ at this. Make it happen.”

“Yes, Mr. President,” all three affirmed.

Scarlet, Heidegger, and Reeve parted ways to reach their respective teams from their offices. As Reeve rushed in his and locked the door behind him, he took the moment to hop back to Cait Sith. The second he did, feedback screeched through his earpiece transceiver. Reeve doubled over in pain as he yanked it out. His vision through Cait Sith continued to cartwheel around, Reeve’s knack currently pushing against some force interfering with the robot’s controls. As Cait Sith shuddered and flailed as though suffering through extremely violent seizures, Reeve could catch the horrified expressions of the rebels and  _ Highwind _ bridge crew as they flew by his vision.

Staggering from vertigo, Reeve stumbled against his desk and gripped it desperately. After a moment of panting heavily, Reeve finally steadied Cait Sith (and the contents of his stomach). 

Cait Sith shook himself off as though nothing had happened. He then glanced around the bridge of the  _ Highwind _ and the collective bewilderment of the room. “That was a surprise,” Cait said sheepishly. “The controls went crazy—that’s not good…Must be feedback from Diamond Weapon. The beastie’s come out of the sea and it’s directly between my signal and here. It’s headed straight for Midgar.”

Cloud moved to Cait’s eye-level. “You said the mako cannon is there, right? Is it ready?”

Reeve’s myriad worries of firing the monstrosity of a weapon weighed heavily on him. “Aye—Aye don’t know if it’s ready…”

The heavy steps of boots signaled Barret rushing up to Cait and Cloud. His face pale, he leaned closer to Cait Sith. “Where is Marlene? Is she safe? You have to tell me  _ now!” _

Holding up his hands in assurance, Cait quickly shook his head. “No, no, she’s safe. She’s still with Aerith’s momma and they haven’t been in Midgar fer  _ ages  _ now.”

Barret’s face immediately softened and he stood, letting out a relieved sigh. He rubbed his face and nodded silently.

…That was it? That was all the high-and-mighty AVALANCHE cell leader had to offer the people of Midgar? The ones he had so adamantly claimed he fought for? Hero of the slums? Not a word, just a nod and an “oh, well?”

Reeve felt his chest burning with each breath as the past several weeks’ stress scorched away the remaining dregs of his civility. He was so  _ sick _ of being  _ civil.  _ He had been civil to  _ everyone, _ to every last, self-serving bastard who had left Midgar’s people to fend for themselves again, and again, and again—year after year after decade. The earnest pleas and protests met with violence and subjugation, the priority of defense systems and military might over human life, the indifference and overt cruelty of leaders who held ultimate power over so many people…

…And he was sick of being last too. Reeve was dead-last every time, just like Midgar. The effort he was putting in to cover both his duties and his long-distance sabotage, the daily diet of caffeine, commissary food, and delivered takeout, the dwindling hours of sleep each night and the distinct ache in his shoulders from crashing on the couch; every last rejected city project, and every last indignity he had to suffer at the board’s hands…The mockery and derision for having even the barest _ minimum _ human emotions and compassion, the daily insults to his competence and worth, and the stinging ache in his foot from the stab of a high heel…

Reeve Tuesti was so damn sick of being  _ civil, _ and he was especially sick of Barret Wallace’s self-righteous, holier-than-thou bullshit.

Cait Sith’s cheerful exterior visibly shifted, his smile fading completely. In an alien tone of voice for the theatrical and playful wise-cracker, he laughed bitterly and said, “Oh. So…if Marlene’s safe, then bugger anybody else, right?”

Those on the bridge exchanged shocked looks. Barret’s face only grew hard and he turned away from Cait Sith.

“Don’t try to ignore me, Wallace,” Cait Sith snapped, thrusting a finger in his direction. “There’s a few things Aye’ve been itchin’ to say for a  _ long _ time now.”

Cloud stared between the two and gently gestured with his hands to quiet them. “And now’s not the best time.”

“Aye’m in Midgar!” Cait Sith hissed. “From th’looks of it, Aye might not  _ get _ another chance and this absolute walloper wouldn’t think twice. He’s nice and cozy with watchin’ folks dyin’ for his causes, though. You look in me eyes and answer me straight, how many d’ya think died when ye blew up Reactor 1? Aye can pull up a list right now and read out names for ya—and we’d be here for a minute, too.” While others tried to calm Cait, Barret’s face remained stony and unmoving. The lack of reaction only caused Cait to hop closer and straighten on his mount to reach higher. “Huh? Shall Aye?”

Gritting his teeth, Barret glared down at Cait Sith with scalding eyes. “If Shinra hadn’t been makin’ all out war on the planet then there wouldn’t have had to have been casualties. A few finally got Shinra to stop doin’  _ nothin.’” _

_ “Civilian _ casualties!” Cait cried, tensing his hands furiously. “Ya say ‘a few’ for the planet, but yer ‘few’ was their  _ ‘everythin’!’ _ Sounds good to say yer protectin’ the planet, does it? No one’s got the right to call you out for yer shite so long as yer doin’ it for the right reason? So, ya get to destroy whatever lives ya please?” 

Lunging directly in Cait’s face, Barret blasted, “You think I give a shit what you think while you still collectin’  _ a paycheck?! _ You spend your whole life livin’ on  _ blood money.” _

While Reeve had unconsciously flinched at Barret’s aggression, Cait had remained steadfast. Cait stared up at him, but then slowly turned his eyes down and his ears drooped slightly. “…Can’t do nuthin’ about the past…can Aye?” Reeve mumbled.

Cloud finally placed a hand on Barret’s chest and eased him back. “Both of you, stop it. This is a waste of time.”

“No, Cloud, it’s not,” Tifa said firmly. 

Cait turned to face what remained of Midgar’s AVALANCHE cell, taken aback by the shades of agony in her rusty-red eyes. 

“It needed to be said,” she continued, swallowing hard. “Cait Sith, Barret knows what he did. What I  _ helped _ him do.” Taking shaky steps toward them both, her eyes pleaded with Barret. “What we did in Midgar shouldn’t be brushed aside. I know you haven’t forgotten, Barret. I haven’t either.”

Barret’s demeanor changed, and Reeve could see an all-too-familiar, soul-crushing regret as his face softened and his broad shoulders sagged. Reeve had seen that look in the mirror repeatedly since Sector 7’s fall. Barret rubbed his eyes and let out a haggard sigh, but said nothing.

Tifa then eased up to Cait and rested a hand on the side of his furry face. “And I know you. I don’t know your name or what you look like, but I know  _ you. _ I know how hard you fight for others, how much you care. You’re not just ‘collecting a paycheck.’ There’s a reason you can’t desert Shinra, and it’s not just to spy for us. It’s the people of Midgar, isn’t it?”

Dumbstruck, Reeve gently nodded through Cait. The two of them might never meet face to face, she may never learn his name, but Tifa’s effort to understand him made her…real. She was real in a way that so few people in Reeve’s life were.

Tifa genuinely smiled. “Alright. That settles that.” She then straightened and faced the group’s leader. “…Cloud?”

A smirk came to Cloud’s soft face, admiration in his mako-tinted eyes. “You don’t have to ask. Of course we’re going after Weapon. It won’t have the chance to put a scratch on Midgar.” He called out, “Cid?”

The captain scratched his nose and folded his arms over his chest. “You really think we got a chance against that thing alone?”

Visibly, Cloud shrugged. “Don’t know, don’t care. No guarantee of winning is no reason to let it go. We’re going to Midgar and we’re taking out Diamond Weapon. Let’s go.”

* * *

During the skirmish against Diamond Weapon, Cait Sith ran on autopilot and Reeve finally reached the boardroom. Scarlet and Heidegger glanced at him, and Reeve gave a quick sweep of his eyes over the room to make sure Rufus wasn’t there. It was only the three of them and a handful of security escorts—likely at Heidegger’s order.

“Oh, decided to join us?” Scarlet scoffed. 

Reeve ignored her passive aggression. “The reactors are ready, and warning about the blackout was issued. Let the President know.”

Nodding firmly, Heidegger connected to the President’s office on the main screen, the new window making room for itself beside images of outside the Shinra tower, and the Diamond Weapon in the distance. While visuals of the office didn’t appear, Rufus’ voice acknowledged them. “Heidegger.”

Laughing confidently, Heidegger clenched a meaty fist. “Mr. President, all preparations for Sister Ray are in order.”

Giggling in excitement, Scarlet added, “On your command, sir. Anytime. And those insurrectionists managed to chase Diamond Weapon directly into the line of fire.”

A heavy silence followed, a shared tenseness both in the boardroom and emanating from the screen. “…Fire.”

Reeve readied himself by leaning against the table as Heidegger called in the command. The three executives looked to each other anxiously, then abruptly a prolonged rumble went through the tower and everything fell pitch black. Reeve had thought he was steady enough, but was immediately thrown to the floor as the shudder became a massive, concentrated blast—for a moment he feared the entire tower would collapse, despite everything he and Scarlet had done to ensure Sister Ray’s force wouldn’t demolish the building instantly. 

In a heap on the floor, Reeve slapped his hands over his ears from a shrill ringing. His attentions swung between his eyes blinded by darkness, and Cait Sith’s sight—currently on the deck of the  _ Highwind _ and facing the last bits of sunset. He could hear Cloud and his companions realizing the shot hadn’t been only for Diamond Weapon perfectly clearly—and only muffled speaking and shuffles through his actual ears. It was so disorienting that he couldn’t pull himself back to his feet without risk of vomiting.

The lights sputtered back on, and Reeve’s sensory settled by degrees. Shaking off the last of the ringing, he blinked up to see one of the soldiers reaching a hand to him. 

“Director,” she offered.

Nodding weakly, he took her hand and allowed her to help him upright. “Thank you,” he said tiredly, running a hand through his hair to push it back in place. He looked to Scarlet and Heidegger, both of them in the midst of getting reports from their departments on the condition of Weapon and the northern continent. He pulled out his own phone, then flinched largely as Scarlet let out a shrill cackle.

“A direct hit!” she screeched. “The crater’s barrier is down!”

Heidegger laughed as well, and clapped a hand on Reeve’s shoulder firmly. “And the Weapon is  _ dead! _ We did it. Do you hear that, Reeve? We  _ did _ it,” he said, his face lit in the most genuine joy Reeve had ever seen on him.

A shocked laugh tumbling from him as well, Reeve nodded in relief and sagged against the edge of the table. “We did it—We actually did it…” He then waved Heidegger on, pointing to his phone meaningfully. “Now to see what the damage is.”

A brand new quake shook the tower, above them booms and crashes rang out. Those in the boardroom stared upwards, and each braced themselves for the worst. The three of them and their guards were nearly thrown off their feet again, but the shaking subsided just as suddenly as it had begun. The executives glanced between one another in shared dread. Echoing groans from the infrastructure far above reached them as only whispers through the ceiling.

“…What in the hell was that?” Scarlet muttered.

Immediately, they scrambled to get reports from their teams. Reeve’s team lead on the Sister Ray, Jim Nowak, answered, “You’re alive! Thank goodness…”

“What do you mean?” Reeve pressed. “What does the outside of the tower look like?”

“Just about every last window outside blew out during Sister Ray’s shot,” Jim informed Reeve. “But we guessed something like that would happen…Di-Did you not feel Weapon’s attack? It looked like it hit the tower head-on!”

His stomach sinking, Reeve put a hand over his mouth. The Shinra tower had barely moments to react to an attack… “How badly? What do you see from there?”

“Hold on, sir…” A pause followed, Reeve could hear shouting and clanging, then Jim returned. “There’s barely anything  _ left _ of the top floors! Where were you that you missed it?!”

“…Those of us in the boardroom felt it,” Reeve said numbly. “We just can’t get any visuals back up yet.”

“Reeve, was…the President wasn’t in his office, was he?”

Uneasily, Reeve glanced at the others engaged in rushed conversations. Heidegger was trying to get confirmation of Rufus’ safety. “…We…We don’t know yet,” Reeve admitted. “We’ll handle that. Is the Sister Ray functioning as anticipated?”

“Everything is perfect on this end,” Jim reported. “Cooldown is going smoothly, and zero issues cutting it off from the reactors. The firing was a complete success, sir.”

Leaning his head back, Reeve briefly closed his eyes and let out a ragged sigh. “Good. All of you should be proud that Midgar is still standing. It was thanks to you.”

“Thank you, Director. You got us here.” 

Over the receiver, screaming and running across metal was punctuated by sporadic, calculated weapon fire.

Reeve started and he stood straight. “Jim? Jim, what was that?”

“I-I don’t know, sir,” he murmured. “Hey, Sandy, what was that! You alright?”

“Those were gunshots!” Reeve said quickly, a bit self-conscious that he knew that sound so well by now. “What’s happening? Do you need security?”

Jim was now busy shouting to his teammates in horror. “Get down! Everybody get down—He’s got a gun!”

Another voice over the line shouted, “Somebody help—!”

A shot silenced the voice, and Jim cried out. “What-What is he doing he…Wait, no, please—!”

“Get  _ out _ of there!” Reeve shouted.

Another blast, then the distinct sound of the phone and something heavy hitting the floor. Firm steps walked by the receiver.

“Jim?” Reeve blurted, a cold sweat over his entire body. “Answer me, Jim!  _ James!” _

Only ambient noise from across the scaffolding was Reeve’s reply—that and wet, weak, fading sobs. Shaking his head in apprehension, he moved his view to Cait Sith enough to signal everyone they needed to notice him. 

Barret snapped, “Yo, we see ya.  _ Now _ what, cat?”

“Hold on!” Reeve blurted as both himself and Cait. He spun on the others in the boardroom, readying Cait Sith to share audio when the need arose. “Scarlet, Heidegger, something’s gone wrong!”

His face sickly and his eyes miles away, Heidegger slowly lowered his phone from his ear. “The President isn’t answering…he was in his office when the blasts hit…”

“Bugger the president,” Reeve snapped, his accent slipping back in his panic. “It’s Sister Ray!”

Scarlet let out a startled laugh and covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, my, and here I thought I had imagined it. Just what gysahl farm did you crawl out of, Reeve? Everythi—”

“Shut yer harpy screechin’ for _five_ _goddamn minutes,_ Scarlet!” Reeve shouted furiously. “Sister Ray’s restarted charging, if ye haven’t noticed.”

Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. “W-What? You’re not serious…I didn’t give that order! We still have three hours of cooldown time before another shot can be made.”

Heidegger shook his head quickly. “Wasn’t me.”

“Reeve, shut it down!” Scarlet pressed. 

Struggling with the manual controls linked to his phone, Reeve shook his head. “…It’s no good. No response. My controls have been disconnected.” Putting a hand to his forehead, his stomach turned in knots. “Someone’s forcibly switched the whole system to the emergency, manual operation—they—they attacked my team. Who the hell would even…? Heidegger,” he snapped, causing Heidegger to jump in surprise. “Get security to give us visuals on the manual controls!”

Nodding by rote, Heidegger brought his phone back to his ear, then paused. His lip curled and he stared at Reeve in confusion. “Wait. Since when the hell do you give  _ me _ orders, Tuesti?”

“Are you _ ridiculous?!” _ Reeve barked. He snatched Heidgegger’s phone from his hand and demanded for visual connection to the emergency control room—thankfully, security could obey an order, at least.

The boardroom screen lit up and Reeve’s face fell in despondency. The bodies of Jim Nowak and several others were just barely in frame, motionless. Over the controls, another figure pulled switches and typed in commands with one hand, a pistol hung at his side in the other. Lights reflected off a pair of colored, round spectacles, and the night breeze rustled long, limp, peppered-black hair and a bloodstained lab coat. Sickening cackles came through the control panel intercom. 

“Just be patient, Sephiroth,” Hojo purred as he worked. “All the mako you could possibly need is yours.”

Those in the boardroom stared dumbly at the feed. Heidegger gripped the edge of the table with white knuckles, Scarlet shook her head slowly and covered her mouth.

This was the right moment to share with the  _ Highwind. _

Reeve said, “Professor! Professor Hojo, listen. You can’t do this. You’ll put the cannon—You’ll put the whole city in danger!”

Hojo’s hand paused, and gradually his eyes swiveled to the camera. “Oh, dear. The whole city, you say?”

“The cannon will overload with the input you’re forcing in it!” Reeve pressed. “You  _ might _ get a shot off, or you’ll just disintegrate Midgar entirely.” 

A savage grin curled across Hojo’s face. “Oh? You know, for a mechanical engineer you’re  _ almost _ clever. Did you honestly think I came all the way up here without knowing what I was doing? What’s a Midgar or two, ultimately?” Chuckling to himself, he returned to the control panel. “You’re all only human, after all.”

“Hojo!”

“Show me, Sephiroth,” Hojo murmured in a dreamlike daze. “You must be close…Show me what it looks like for the biological to ascend to the celestial. My ultimate creation, go beyond science itself…I’ll never forgive you for it, but I concede defeat.” His eyes drifted toward the skies while Reeve and the rest of the board shouted to retake his attention. “Let me see it before this shell loses its usefulness…”

Reeve slammed his palm on the table at his powerlessness, then his face hardened. He held his phone back to his ear after miming the motions of dialing, then turned his back on Scarlet and Heidegger. Reeve moved his vision back to the  _ Highwind. _

“He’s finally lost his mind completely. And it’s so much worse than we could’ve imagined,” Cait Sith said. 

Barret clenched his fist. “So, yo,  _ do _ something, ya damn cat! He’s your problem, idn’t he?”

“Didn’t you listen to a damn thing I just let you hear?” Cait Sith pleaded. Reeve ignored a series of pops from Cait Sith’s receiver as he continued, “Hojo’s gone rogue, he’s taken control of the Sister Ray controls on his own, and there’s nothing we can do to stop the…uh…the…”

Every eye on the  _ Highwind  _ was fixed on Cait Sith in bewilderment. Nanaki tilted his head, Tifa curled her lip incredulously, and Vincent stared at him with half-closed eyes and a tight brow. Cloud was currently turning his head to concentrate on some sound, while several of the crew members whispered to each other and scratched their heads.

“W…Why is…everyone…staring at me like that?”

“Holy shit…is that…?” Cid said. He slowly removed his cigarette from his mouth, his eyes burning a hole through Cait Sith. “I  _ know _ that voice…”

Reeve’s terror at exploding along with Midgar was now replaced by a brand new terror. Had…Had Cait Sith’s voice alteration dropped? Oh, no, the static…

“Oh…Oh,  _ that’s _ not good…”

“Yeah,” Barret said in a low voice. “I know that voice too. I memorized every last board member’s face and voice for the day I was gonna put this hand to their heads,” he said icily, patting his replacement. “You’re tellin’ me this whole time we’ve had a Shinra  _ executive director _ dancin’ around and crackin’ jokes through a goddamn stuffed cat?”

Vincent mused, “Hm. So, he  _ is _ high-ranking. Much, much higher than I thought.”

Tifa blinked at Barret in shock. “Who…?”

“Reeve Tuesti,” Barret said, a grim smile curling his lips. “Director of Midgar Urban Development. So,  _ that’s _ why you got so many damn tears for Midgar. It ain’t about a single person there, is it?” he added in a growl.

Cloud moved in between Cait and Barret. He cooly said, “Forget it. It doesn’t matter now.” He focused on Cait. “Can’t you shut it off? You’re in charge of reactor output, right?”

Pulled in so many directions mentally, Cait Sith shook his head. “We…We can’t just stop it.”

“You’re the asshole with your finger on the valves!” Barret snapped. “The hell you mean, you can’t stop it? More like you can’t shut off your precious production? Huh?”

Reeve felt himself being laid bare and raw, like he had been forcibly stripped of his clothes and those he considered his friends could only humiliate him further…He had nothing to say they would believe. He should have been able to keep his focus on the matter at hand, but this exposure had stolen every bit of Reeve’s resolve. They all mattered so much to him, Reeve couldn’t face retribution from them…Only minutes before Tifa had spoken up for him, and now stared at Cait Sith with silent uncertainty. The group’s about-face had happened instantaneously… 

Grumbling loudly, Cid stormed up to Cait and grabbed his tiny shoulder. “You still in there? We dragged your ass across every continent and through hellfire and back and you’re gonna run off  _ now?” _

“I’m not…I’m still here,” Reeve said. “I’ve been by your side the whole time, but I can’t—I  _ still _ can’t make you trust me…”

“Damn fool,” Cid seethed. “You gonna make me spell it out for ya? Right now if you’re loyal to Shinra or not doesn’t mean shit. But  _ I _ know you’re supposed to be some kinda goddamn genius and you know every last inch of those reactors, Tuesti. You can’t tell me you don’t know how to shut them down. Act like some kinda human being and not a goddamn coward for once in your life. You say you care about those people trapped under your boardroom, how ‘bout you prove it and  _ do _ something about it?”

A light went off behind Reeve’s eyes. He couldn’t convince them all, but he  _ could _ convince a fellow engineer. “Captain, listen. Scarlet dismantled all the safety protocols to speed up the installation. Just shutting off the mako flow won’t redirect the energy back into the grid once the input into Sister Ray has started. I have to get manual control again to force it.”

Cid’s eyes thinned as he thought on this, then they abruptly widened and his eyebrows shot up in dismay. “Wait…and Shinra  _ let _ her?”

“You _ know _ Scarlet!” Reeve blurted in aggravation, Cait waving his arms. “Try to stop her from doing  _ any _ thing!”

An eyebrow lowered, Cloud cut in: “Wait, what does that mean?”

“Without anything to automatically and safely reroute power back to the grid,” Cid said, “then you’re lookin’ at a continuous build-up of mako wherever the flow stops.”

“It can’t stay in one place for long,” Cait Sith added. “It’ll just keep building energy until it finds a way to release outward.”

At last Barret’s expression grew slack in understanding. “You talkin’ about an explosion…!”

“And with Midgar’s level of production, not a small one,” Cid pointed out. 

“It’ll make the explosion at Reactor 1 look like a sparkler,” Cait Sith said.

“Hell,” Cid scoffed. “With a chain reaction from the rest of the mako in Midgar, we might be lookin’ at a new Northern Crater.”

“Alright,” Barret relented, shaking his head. “I get it, Ca…Tuesti…You’re trying to help Midgar’s people. I get it.”

Cloud nodded. “We have to stop Hojo and get that cannon under control.”

Reeve let out a long breath in relief, recomposing himself as his awareness slipped back to the board. Into the silent phone he said, “Wait? Are you sure? Fine. It might work to our advantage,” he said to no one. Reeve then turned back to Scarlet and Heidegger, his hand over the cell’s receiver. “Listen. The  _ Highwind _ is on the move. Cloud and his cell are headed for Midgar. If we work this right then they’ll be able to take care of Hojo for us. Let’s just stay out of their way.”

Growing a disquieting shade of purple, Heidegger leered at Reeve. “Oh, coming  _ here, _ are they?”

Reeve said again, “Stay  _ out _ of their way.” He turned his head to figure out some good way to end his imaginary conversation, then flinched as Heidegger thrust a finger in his face.

“Know your  _ place, _ Tuesti,” Heidegger snarled. “You don’t give me orders. And those usurpers are not setting one  _ foot _ in Midgar. The Public Security Division will make sure order is kept in this city—no matter what!”

Scarlet glanced between the two of them, her eyes thinning as she mulled over the exchange.

“A man has his pride to honor,” Heidegger said in a growl. “This is personal.”

“Pride?” Reeve scoffed. “Yes, you’re right, that is personal. And  _ ridiculous! _ Every life in this city is on the line and you’re more worried about some threat to your pride?” 

“Rufus is dead!” Heidegger snapped. “Now I do things  _ my _ way.”

Suddenly, Scarlet worldessly stormed up to Reeve and gripped his wrist. She yanked his arm around to study the darkened and silent screen of his phone. “…Why were you staring off so long, Reeve?”

Reeve’s face paled and he pulled his arm back from her. “Scarlet…are you accusing me of something? I hung u—”

“You’re  _ with _ them,” Scarlet hissed. 

Poorly-oiled gears turned behind Heidegger’s eyes, and he stared at Scarlet dumbly. “What now?”

“Remember, Heidegger, Reeve can be in two places at once. How would he magically guess where Strife’s faction is going?” she said. “The botched execution, the stolen Huge Materia, how  _ conveniently _ Highwind knew every corner of Junon airport security—How long have you been feeding information to them, Tuesti?”

_ “You!”  _ In rage, Heidegger slammed his hefty fist on the table. “How many of my men are  _ dead  _ because of you, you traitor?!”

“Both of you,” Reeve blurted, a sweat breaking out on his face. “This is insane, you can’t blame me for Cloud’s rebellion—!”

Scarlet grabbed Reeve by his tie and shoved him back, forcing him backwards until he hit the wall. “How long…Maybe even longer than we thought…” Her eyes shifted from Reeve’s face to the soldiers standing by. She smiled hungrily. “Who else would have known Reactors 1 and 5 so well?”

His eyes widening in horror and revulsion, Reeve pushed against her grip. “Scarlet, you  _ know _ I had nothing to do—”

“You monster…! All those people in Sector 7…” she whispered in mock distress. “Only the man who knew the plates’ designs would know how to drop it so easily. You built this city just to watch it  _ burn, _ Tuesti?”

“Scarlet, you can’t do this!” Reeve hissed back. “I would do  _ any _ thing for this city and you know it…!”

“You!” Scarlet snapped at the guards. “Make sure this bastard is put somewhere he can’t do any more damage.” Looking back to him, she shook her head sadly. “Once this whole debacle is settled we’ll have no choice but to make you face justice.”

“You’ve never  _ once _ cared about justice.”

Scarlet roughly let Reeve go and firmly walked to the doors. “Heidegger. If Tuesti’s friends are on their way, I have the perfect weapon to welcome them with.”

_ “Think, _ both of you,” Reeve said, taking a step towards Scarlet. “The cannon has to be—” He was cut off rudely as one of the security members slammed him sideways into the table. “Wait!” He groaned loudly. “Wait, I won’t resist—” He had little time for the shooting pain in his ribs to fully register before the butt of a rifle slammed against his temple. Reeve had spent a lifetime ensuring he would never be on the receiving end of Shinra’s vengeance, and it was every bit as excruciating as he had imagined. Forced face-first into the carpet, he spat and coughed as stars filled his vision. “Scarlet—Heidegger—stop this! Please—!”

“Shut up,” one of the security members snapped before roughly binding his wrists. “You deserve a hell of a lot worse than this, you sick son of a bitch.”

Resigned, Reeve allowed the soldiers to drag him to his feet. He could feel that the transceiver had been knocked out of his ear. He leaned his head back and passed his words to Cait Sith in an audible voice, groaning out, “Cloud…everyone…I can’t help as—me…I’m sorry…please, hurry.” 

As Reeve fought against the throbbing aches all over him, he could see Cloud’s face on the other side of his awareness. His lips tightened and he nodded. “It’s okay. Tell Midgar to hang in there. We’re coming.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, wow, sooooo much happens in this chapter! Again, any of the dialogue that is a direct translation from the OG is based on a more accurate translation, and then fitted to better match the tone of the story.
> 
> Yes, we’ve reached *that* part of the original Final Fantasy 7 story. That part that some people mistakenly claim invalidates any of Barret’s grievances against Shinra or somehow fully apologies for capitalism in general. Which is not the case. It makes no apologies because there are none. It only calls out the actions of one character who took things too far. Reeve has his right to be angry, but it's ridiculous to claim Barret is somehow given what for or whatever.
> 
> I always pictured Reeve and Cid being able to connect through engineering degrees. 
> 
> I was very unkind to our boy Reeve during my version of his arrest, but hey, this is Shinra and I wanted to bring more *peril* into the scene. I do love some peril.  
>   
> 


	10. There is No Shinra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Shinra tower is on lockdown, and Reeve Tuesti is under arrest. Cloud and his insurrectionists are headed to Midgar to stop Professor Hojo and Sister Ray. What will be left of Shinra when the dust settles?

It was a long, gut-wrenching walk to a detention cell. The damage to the windows and upper floors of the Shinra tower had activated automatic safety measures. Sinister hums from various security drones filled every hallway, trapping terrified employees inside their offices or in break areas. All elevators had come to a stop at the closest floor at the time of lockdown, depositing their riders and disabling until the emergency state was declared over. Who knew how long that would take? Any Shinra leadership with enough clearance to lift it was in disarray: one presumed-dead CEO, two executive directors more concerned with a blood vendetta, another at work hijacking the largest weapon in the world (to further empower the biggest threat to sentient life in the world), one sniveling director MIA, and the last currently under arrest. 

This meant that Reeve’s escorts had kept their aggressive pace while descending nearly ten flights of stairs. Any difficulties Reeve had in going down steps with restrained hands while being shoved was met with greater shoving and searing insults. Reeve was internally grateful to reach the security floors just to be on flat ground again.

Reeve and his escort’s steps crunched over broken glass and left trails through the dust scattered by the Weapon’s attack. As they approached a security clearance checkpoint, they passed a large, open area.

“R-Reeve?”

Reeve turned his head to face the familiar voice, seeing his assistant across the lobby. Her face was pale, her eyes wide as she trotted to get nearer. “Wh-What is—?!”

One of the soldiers leveled a handgun at her without hesitation. “Stay back.”

Jumping and letting out a terrified shriek, she desperately clutched her tablet to her chest. From where she stood shaking, she called, “Reeve! What is happening?!” 

Reeve strained to look over his shoulder at her. “Call everyone you know—Tell them to get off the plates! Everyone has to g—” A hand grabbed the back of his hair roughly and he was cut off as his voice strained in agony.

He could hear her voice plead fearfully for him, but with Reeve’s head forced forward he couldn’t give her any assurance. From this position it was not likely any assurance would work, anyway.

The soldiers brought him to a detention area, and as they neared a cell one of the soldiers took the opportunity to lead Reeve personally. “‘Get off the plates,’ huh?” she snarled viciously, spinning him around to face her. Reeve recalled the young woman who had helped him to his feet in the boardroom. “Did not being on the plate help my family in Sector 7?” she spat at him.

Reeve felt his stomach lurch and he looked down at her in shock. Reeve hadn’t made that call, but he hadn’t fought hard enough against it, either—and what right did he have to claim no responsibility when his designs had ultimately allowed for such purposefully-exploitable flaws? His expression twisted in pain. “…I’m so sorry,” he whispered. 

What little of her face he could see beneath her trinocular visor went slack. Then her teeth clenched in fury and she swung her baton across the side of his head.

Immediately hitting the floor and his vision hazy, Reeve struggled to pull himself to his knees. “It…It shouldn’t have happened…”

“Shut up!” she howled at him, twice slamming a steel-toed boot in his midsection. “Give ‘em  _ back,  _ you son a bitch!”

Blinking stars out of his eyes and his body wracked by hacking coughs, he weakly heaved his head up to see other security members pulling his attacker back.

“You had your fun,” one snapped. “Go cool off.”

“I’m not done!” she shouted. “Lemme make the next one  _ count.” _

While members of security argued, another simply grabbed Reeve’s shoulder and dragged him into a cell. The door slammed shut and locked instantly. They hadn’t bothered to release his binds. His head hanging, Reeve let out a long, ragged groan and he awkwardly pushed himself against the back wall of his prison.

Sitting up, he painfully panted and leaned his head back to force strands of his hair away from his face and the blood trickling down its side. As terrible a position as this was…eyes were finally off of Reeve entirely. He had no option other than aiding remotely and hoping the renegade planet-protectors actually considered Reeve a friend enough to rescue. 

With a slow, steadying breath, Reeve shifted his focus.

* * *

The last of a hideous, bubbling rattle shook through the shuddering mass that was once Shinra’s most respected scientist. The group waited, watching it grow still—and then continued to wait, just to be sure. Cait Sith adjusted his stance on his mount as it held its massive, fuzzy fists at the ready. Sizzling welts popped and steamed across the surface of the motionless flesh, and Cait watched his companions take steps back and their faces contort from a rising stench.

“That did it,” Barret grumbled, waving his hand in front of his face. “Hoo  _ damn, _ that shit’s rank.”

Letting out a drawn-out whistle and a trail of smoke, Cid rubbed the back of his head. “Good riddance to  _ that _ bullshit.”

Vincent was the only one to step forward and give a final inspection of the rapidly deteriorating pile. “…Hojo. Rest in peace.”

Nanaki had moved the furthest from the remains, his wide nostrils flaring in revulsion. He let out a sharp huff and shook his head, his many beads clattering with the movement. “I don’t hope for peace for him, but  _ I _ feel a good deal more of it now that he is gone. Every life on Gaia is safer without him.”

Sensing the distance between Vincent and the others, Tifa stepped up to Vincent and put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey…you with us, Vincent?”

He made no response. Vincent’s crimson eyes reflected the lights around the Sister Ray scaffolding as they stared off, further away than any of them could reach.

Cait Sith, gratefully not present enough to be offended by any fumes, hopped up to them as well. “Aye know this doesn’t fix everythin,’ Vincent, but it’s a start, eh?”

“…His death prevents more suffering,” Vincent relented, “but in no way can it fix what has already passed. What was allowed to pass.”

“I know you think Hojo was your responsibility somehow,” Tifa pressed. “But you can’t blame yourself for all the… _ terrible _ things he did on his own. The terrible things he did to his own  _ son…” _

Vincent’s brow hardened. 

“There’s a lot of us here with a burden to bear,” Cait reminded Vincent. “But there’s too much left undone to let it paralyze us.”

Vincent glanced down at Cait. “I appreciate your sympathy. But nothing is ever going to compare to how much I could have prevented.”

Cait lowered his head. “…Aye’ve spent the last few months thinkin’ how Aye could’ve stopped the Sector 7 collapse. Aye tr…” Without electronic commands, Cait couldn’t control his voice any more than Reeve, so he had to clear his throat gently to steady himself. “Aye…tried to reason with President Shinra…Aye tried to get to the sector and warn people…”

Tifa’s eyes closed and she looked away. “…Please, don’t. Besides, Cait, I’ve already got you covered on that one…I still hear that—sound—in my head. All the time. I was right there at the controls and I couldn’t stop it…”

“But…now ye know who yer talkin’ to…” Cait said sullenly, gesturing to himself. “No matter what ye think ye could’ve done, Tifa…Aye was in a better position…wasn’t Aye?”

Tifa shook her head and gave Cait a brief squeeze. “Stop. Not now.” 

Vincent glanced between the two, his face soft. “I understand,” he said with a short nod. “Cait Sith…Director. Isn’t there something you need to finish?”

“Right!” Cait affirmed after a deep breath. “Aye’ll need some help.”

Cait hopped to the manual controls to Sister Ray, waving over anyone who would follow. “Aye cannae exactly reach it all…Tifa, pull that lever on your left. Cid, these fingers are shite fer typin,’ so input what Aye say.” Directing his companions, Cait Sith set to work on rerouting the gathered mako in the cannon back into the Midgar mainframe. As readouts showed the mako flow reducing, the ominous hum in the massive cannon gradually fell silent—and the distressing vibration through the scaffolding stilled.

“Barret!” Cait blurted. “Make sure no one can hijack these controls the second we turn our backs.”

Grinning largely, he leveled his right arm at the rig. “And it ain’t even my birthday.”

Everyone backed off, giving Barret every bit of space he needed to make short work of the manual controls. As the gun powered down and smoked, the bullet-ridden panels sparked and its broken monitors flickered uselessly.

“We did it!” Cait announced to all of them, throwing his hands in the air in excitement.

All of them, technologically savvy or no, were swept up in this victory, passing congratulations, high fives, and hugs to one another. Tifa again had her arms around Cait Sith, lifting him up eagerly, and he laughed with her.

As she set the cat back on his mount, Tifa smiled in his face. “Good work.”

“Everyone…” Cait began gratefully, rubbing the back of his head. “Thanks. Ye really came through…”

“Whatever, grandpa,” Yuffie said dismissively. “You’re one of us, aren’t you?”

Everyone around the platform looked to Yuffie in stunned surprise.

Blushing deeply, she propped her hands on her hips.  _ “A-And  _ we were here for Midgar, right?” When her response was only amused grins, she folded her arms across her chest. “Whatever! Stop staring at me.”

Cid began laughing, slapping Cait’s shoulder and nearly knocking him right off the mooglesaurus. “Hey, lookit you, you’ve graduated to ‘grandpa!’ Welcome to the club, old man. Hell, ain’t you older than me? This guy’s the  _ real _ grandpa here.”

Smiling at the exchange, Cloud shook his head. “Alright. Ca—Um.” He paused, grimacing. “…Do you…still want us to call you Cait Sith?”

“Aye’m Cait Sith right now, aren’t Aye?” Cait assured him with a nod and a large shrug. “What were ya aboot to say?”

“Right.” Cloud fumbled over his thoughts (Reeve liked this more awkward, less-assured Cloud that had awoken from the Lifestream a great deal), then asked, “Do you need help? Where are you?”

Reeve was about to answer, then paused. He brought his attention back to his cell, and the heated shouting going on outside its door. Swallowing nervously, he pressed himself further against the wall. “I’m on the fifty-fourth floor, there’s a detention area here…something’s happening. My equipment was taken, so I can’t hear you and whatever’s going on outside the door at the same time. D-Don’t…Don’t rush in just yet.”

A weight slammed against the door loudly and Reeve flinched. With the interior of the building on lockdown, he couldn’t demand the others put themselves at risk…it would be a fight the entire way with very little likelihood they could stop whatever was coming in time.

The door opened, and firmly Tseng stepped in, adjusting his cuffs casually. “Director Tuesti.”

Gawking up at the Turk, Reeve glanced through the door behind him and saw Tseng’s subordinates waiting. Several unconscious security officers had been moved to either side of the hall. 

“You…?” Reeve breathed out dumbly. “All of you had the chance to abandon your posts and you came  _ back? _ For  _ me?” _

Reno chuckled loudly, shaking his head as he turned on his heels. “Wow, don’t make this weird.”

“We have other reasons,” Tseng said coolly. “But you are aware you’re currently the only executive director capable of taking command?” He looked to Rude and nodded his head toward Reeve shortly. Rude eased in, and he and Tseng helped Reeve to his feet and out of his binds. 

Gratefully, Reeve rubbed his wrists. “I…There is no Shinra,” Reeve said grimly as he stepped out of the cell.

Whistling, Reno slipped a hand in his pocket. “Ya look like shit.”

Allowing a sheepish grin, Reeve shrugged. “I’d say ‘you should see the other guy,’ but I don’t think there’s much left to see. But the stain looks worse, at least.”

Elena covered her mouth to stifle a surprised snicker, the tiniest sliver of a smile crossed Rude’s lips, and Reno genuinely laughed. “Whoa, what? Since when are  _ you _ funny, Tuesti?” Reno said. “I thought that stick was so far up your ass it damaged that part of your brain.”

“It’s been an…interesting night,” Reeve said. “One moment.” He glanced away from the Turks, letting the others know through Cait that a rescue wasn’t necessary and that Cait would follow them back to the  _ Highwind.  _ As he returned his awareness to the Turks, he pulled out his handkerchief, wiping the dried blood off his forehead that had been bothering him since the beginning of his incarceration. “I still don’t understand,” Reeve began cautiously. “You defied orders and let Strife’s faction go.”

Tseng folded his arms behind his back. “Chairman Heidegger had neglected to make his orders clear. We were unable to complete them as given.”

Reeve half-smirked at Tseng doubtfully. “And unfortunately, Heidegger is no longer able to confirm that.”

Tseng’s trio of subordinates shared knowing looks, while Tseng mechanically lowered his head. “The loss of Chairpersons Heidegger and Scarlet is a terrible tragedy,” he said. As he raised it again, Tseng’s ochre eyes firmly locked onto Reeve’s face. “The Turks await your orders, Senior Director.”

The title caused his eyes to widen briefly, and Reeve shook his head. “I’m sorry, Tseng, but…look around you. There  _ is _ no Shinra.”

Tseng’s lips tightened briefly. “With all due respect, sir,” he said. “Those in this tower and in Midgar would disagree. It will take an executive override to lift the tower’s lockdown, and that is only the beginning. Shinra and Midgar need leadership now more than ever, and your name has power. There is no one else who could step up who will be as instantly respected and unquestioned.”

Swallowing, Reeve turned his eyes to the floor. He blinked numbly at the enormity of the statement.

“Your expertise in Midgar’s infrastructure makes you the only logical choice for coordinating an evacuation,” Tseng continued. “But no such efforts can be made unless someone takes command of the Public Security Division.”

Rude added smoothly, “Leaving the armed forces without direction would be extremely unwise.”

“Most of them are bad enough  _ with _ direction,” Elena agreed, throwing a glance at those on the floor.

Tseng allowed a moment to pass before speaking, his voice dropping meaningfully: “I will say again…the Turks await your orders, Senior Director Tuesti.”

Reeve’s dislike of the Turks was currently irrelevant. They were right. A nagging fear whispered at the back of Reeve’s head, that taking up Shinra command was making a deal with devils all over again…but simply announcing Shinra was dissolved and walking away would be a disastrous mistake—and unforgivably irresponsible. He had once told Vincent he would be cleaning up Shinra’s messes until the end of his days…Reeve had no choice but to make good on his word.

Straightening his tie and suit coat, Reeve nodded. “Will you please escort me to the boardroom and then my office? There’s some equipment I need to collect before I can start.”

Reno laughed and nudged Rude. “Will ya check this out, yeah?  _ This _ director says ‘please’!”

“We’re moving up in the world!” Elena giggled with him.

Tseng’s unmovable expression curled into a grin. “Please follow us, Director. If you think of anything else, please don’t hesitate to say.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter, but the last one was pretty long. I always wondered what the heck happened to Reeve during his arrest, and really with how much was going on at that time there was only one group who would have gotten him out.
> 
> I haven't mentioned it yet, but astute readers may notice in every scene with Tifa and Cait Sith, Tifa always touches him in some way. It's a reference to a personal joke, and I'm passing it to all of you. Watch any interactions between human guests and the Muppets, and there is a particular set of people who just can't seem to help themselves and MUST TOUCH THE PUPPET AS OFTEN AS POSSIBLE. It's become something of a game for me that I look out for whenever the Muppets perform around people. TIFA MUST TOUCH THE PUPPET AS OFTEN AS POSSIBLE.
> 
> And welcome to Cloud's team for real, Reeve. Glad to have you.  
>   
> 


	11. For a World After War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reeve informs Elmyra someone is coming to visit. Who could possibly want to see her and Marlene?

Elmyra sighed as voicemail picked up. “I thought I told you not to let me go to voicemail, Reeve,” she said tiredly. “But from what I’m seeing on the TV, I can tell you’re very busy. Keeping…so much of everything going…I dunno how you’re doing it. Kalm keeps getting more refugees, and I see all the vehicles and those—what are they? Temporary roads?—all those things outside Midgar from our window…” Rubbing her face, she swallowed. “Just…Just call me back,” she murmured. “Marlene keeps asking about you. She wants you to know she’s seen the emergency broadcasts and she thinks you sound very important.”

So much more lingered on the tip of Elmyra’s tongue, but she forced herself to say goodbye and hung up.

Staring at the ceiling briefly, Elmyra sighed and steeled herself. She eased back out the front door to soak in the almost-normal sight of Marlene and the other neighborhood kids playing games in the street. Other adults sat on their porches and stoops, watching the children as well—all of them with the same, numb disconnect in their faces. The violet haze irradiating the sky from the direction of Midgar was now only the background noise of daily life. Parents had given up sheltering the children inside after the days had dragged on. School was canceled, most businesses had closed. The unsaid reason was there, present like an icy fog that hung over every family and every forced smile as each day passed.

They were running out of time.

Elmyra heard a text notification, and she lazily lifted her phone to look at it. To her surprise, Reeve had actually responded. 

_Someone will be coming by today. I can’t leave Midgar. Please get Marlene’s reaction._

She stared at the message in puzzlement. She replied, _Who?_

 _It’s a surprise._ He punctuated this with a black cat emoji giving the thumbs up.

Elmyra chuckled and shook her head. Something had changed in Reeve. It was such a shame it was too late.

Abruptly, Marlene let out a shriek, causing Elmyra to flinch in shock and her gaze to snap back to the street. Marlene dropped her jump rope and ran down the street toward the square with abandon, squealing happily all the way.

“Marlene?” Elmyra blurted, rushing down the steps after her. “What are you doing? Marlene!”

Through Marlene’s ecstatic cries, she finally formed words that Elmyra could understand: “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!”

In shock, Elmyra slowed to a halt at the edge of the square, a hand on her chest as she watched Marlene bolt toward a towering figure who reached the mechanical well at the center of town. Allowing a duffle bag to drop from his shoulder, Barret Wallace laughed boisterously and knelt to welcome Marlene into his embrace. 

Tears welling in her eyes, a smile came to Elmyra and she brought up her phone to record. Marlene dove against her father, and Barret brought her into a one-armed hold. 

“Who’s this big girl?” Barret chuckled, his smile taking over his entire face. “Who’s this? I’m looking for a baby. This big girl can’t be Marlene.”

“It’s me, Daddy!” she giggled. 

“No!”

“Yes! I’m a big girl!”

“You’re _such_ a big girl,” he agreed, sweeping her off her feet and onto his shoulder as he pulled himself to his full height. “Take off my glasses, sweetie, I wanna get a good look at you.”

Eagerly she plucked off Barret’s sunglasses and then leaned against the side of his head. “You’re bigger too.”

“Naw, I ain’t bigger,” he snickered. “Pretty soon you’re gonna be too big to fit there.”

“No!”

“No? You just said you’re a big girl.”

“Not too big for shoulder rides.”

While Marlene clung to him and started swinging her feet, Barret met gazes with Elmyra. Clearly having trouble keeping his eyes dry, he titled his head slightly. “And I do not consent to any recording, ma’am. I will have to ask you to stop that at once.”

Marlene waved at Elmyra, recognizing the blinking light of the camera. “Hi, Miss Elmyra!”

Beaming through the moisture rolling down her face, Elmyra stopped recording. “Mr—Barret. You made it. You made it in time.”

* * *

The hours had cascaded into over three days, with Barret smothering Marlene at every moment. In no way was Marlene ungrateful, returning his enthusiasm in kind. She had to get him up to speed about the months since her father had first left Midgar: all the toys she had amassed, her new clothes, her new friends, the food she cooked with Elmyra, the coloring books and drawings she had completed, and the planters she helped tend to. Barret absorbed every word, nodding and encouraging her rambling, and unquestioningly reading her any picture book she shoved in his hand.

Barret had given Marlene her late birthday gifts. Marlene had been overjoyed to have the necklace that had once belonged to the mother she never knew—though Elmyra could see the layers of unspoken pain looking at it brought to Barret. To Marlene’s delight, some of Barret’s vibrant kaleidoscope of fellow outlaws had also scrounged together what they could to add to the belated gift-giving: Tifa had donated a particularly lovely shell from a place Barret called the Forgotten City, someone named Nanaki gave a beaded bangle supposedly for Marlene’s hair (but it was far too large), a girl called Yuffie had made an ink print of Marlene’s name in Wutaian characters, a Shinra Space and Aeronautics Department flag that had apparently once hung in the _Highwind_ had been given by its crew and the illustrious Captain Cid Highwind himself (Barret also had pressed that Cid insisted the flag was from someone named Vincent as well. Marlene was visibly less enthused about that), and Cloud passed on a somewhat worn but still lovely, purple parasol—along with a note that brought Elmyra to tears.

Cloud expected Marlene to take very good care of that parasol, it had belonged to Aerith.

It was so hard to see Barret as the same AVALANCHE leader who had been escorted to execution on camera those weeks ago. His face was soft, his smile infectious, and his laugh warm. He went out of his way to help Elmyra with any chores and used only polite tones in the house. The only thing that linked this Barret to the one Elmyra had seen over the screen was the heavy, intimidating weapon that fit over the stump of his right arm. While Barret had removed it and set it aside the second he had stepped into the house, it still rested beside the door…standing as a grim reminder of the violence intrinsically linked to Marlene Wallace.

Just past midnight on the third night, Elmyra quietly eased down the steps, two mugs of herbal tea in hand. Barret sat on the sofa, dwarfing both it and Marlene as she draped against him and slept soundly. His amber eyes were distant as he gazed at the barest hints of violet visible through the curtains. 

“If you fall asleep like that you’ll strain your neck,” Elmyra whispered as she approached, handing him a cup.

“Thank you,” he said quietly with a subtle nod. After a short sip, he sighed. “…Can’t really sleep. Might doze a bit.”

Sitting on the loveseat beside them, Elmyra’s brow turned in growing unease. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

Tiredly, Barret nodded. “I still got a few hours before I gotta head out.”

Staring into her cup, Elmyra swallowed. “…You’re running out of time, Barret.”

Slowly, he shook his head and let out a drawn-out, quiet “sh.” “Don’t start that.”

“She needs you.”

“I know. That’s why I gotta go.”

“What…What do you think you all will accomplish?” she asked uncomfortably.

“It’s hard to describe,” Barret said in a low voice. “But if there’s even a chance, I have to try. For her.”

“And if you fail…will you regret losing that time?”

Barret leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “…Yeah. But I gotta fail for that to happen.”

Curling her legs on the loveseat, Elmyra quietly sipped her tea. For a time everything was still, Barret humming some tune under his breath, and Elmyra found herself nearly nodding off. She yawned deeply. “Oh, dear. I should probably go to bed. Could you at least…consider not going?”

Barret rolled his head straight again and calmly drank his tea. “How old was your husband when he enrolled in the military?”

Struck by the question, Elmyra rubbed her neck. “Fifteen.”

“Cloud was fourteen when he first tried out for SOLDIER,” Barret said softly. “Tifa learned how to bartend before she could legally drink.”

Unclear on where the train of thought was going, Elmyra shrugged. “That’s not uncommon. Although, I _was_ surprised, Reeve said he had completed university and was hired by Shinra by seventeen.”

“…Got all that done by seventeen?” Barret repeated, shaking his head. “He didn’t mention that, but I guess that sounds like the right time frame.” Polishing off the last of his tea, he held out the cup for Elmyra to take. “That girl Yuffie? She was fourteen when she left Wutai the first time. A fourteen year-old girl on her own like that. You know how old I was the first time I stepped in a mine to work? I was _thirteen,_ Elmyra. Thirteen, and I thought that was some kinda damn privilege to crawl down a dark hole and risk killin’ myself.”

Frowning as she collected the cup, Elmyra shrugged. “…Where is this going?”

“My grandparents wanted to beat the hell outta me,” Barret chuckled. “They hadn’t wanted me to start so young. And they told me what it was like before the wars…the wars that just never stop. Drinkin’ age is still twenty-one in so many places because of how things used to be. People still thought you were a kid at _twenty._ Can you imagine that?”

Uncomfortably, Elmyra looked away. “…It’s hard to.”

“I’m fightin’ for Marlene’s life,” Barret continued. “But…I been thinkin.’ What good is givin’ her a childhood that goes by too fast? Why did we let war do this to us, Elmyra? Why won’t we let our children be children? The one we’re fighting…the one that summoned Meteor, he was never allowed to be a child _even once._ A weapon forced on him the second his tiny hands could hold one. And _look_ where we all are because of that. The fightin’ has to _stop._ Every damn bit of it. I wanna be one of the last ones that has to.”

A lump growing in her throat, Elmyra stared at Barret in awe. Swallowing and blinking to force back moisture, she nodded firmly. “Alright, Barret. I get it. Go. Fix this. I…I let everything get to me.”

“Ain’t nuthin’ wrong with that,” he assured her with a strained smile and a weary chuckle. “I got a lotta folks keepin’ me sane. I’d be a lot worse off if I didn’t.”

Standing, Elmyra patted his right shoulder gently. “Go on. Show me what a world after war looks like, Wallace.”

Chuckling softly, Barret gave her a firm nod. “Yes, ma’am, I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The original game really never made it how clear the PC's group's little vacation was, how anybody got anywhere, how they got back if the Highwind was just chillin' where it was ... yeesh. So, I had to put some logic to the time frame, giving time for all the PC's to get to their respective homes and spend some kind of time there, including Yuffie.
> 
> As short as this chapter is, not even having Reeve appear, it's one of the most important things I've written for this setting, in my opinion. Sure, it's easy to write off the fact that so much happens to characters at such young ages as just being anime tropes, but I was determined to put logic to the setting. The only time that humans send very young people into making families or the workforce has been when large chunks of the population has been lost. What's the most common reason? War. And in FF7 Remake Square has made it clear it is very much in Shinra's best interests to keep war going.
> 
> I love Barret, no matter the things he's done, and the moment between him and Elmyra popped up in my head rather suddenly. I would do absolutely anything to hear his very earnest plea said by Barret's voice actor. TT A TT


	12. Visions from the Lifestream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meteor is descending on Midgar and Reeve must somehow juggle Midgar's evacuation and remotely joining his fellow planet protectors to finally face Sephiroth. Without help, how can Reeve face his greatest challenge?
> 
> **Spoilers for Before Crisis**

The purple haze had become a foreboding blood-red and burned as a new sun, though the shadow of Meteor simultaneously made day into night over Midgar. A perpetual wind ripped across the plates, sending debris tumbling through the streets and long-forgotten litter fluttering through the air like filthy snowflakes. Before his death, Bugenhagen had predicted there were still three days until Meteorfall, but Reeve couldn’t see how the condition of the skies and weather could indicate anything other than the end—far too soon. Reeve hadn’t spent his time away from Cait Sith for anything other than evacuation efforts, and it was just not enough time.

Temporary Shinra headquarters resided in an old Shinra office building in the Sector 4 undercity. Power continuously would shut off on its own, forcing all work to cease until the breakers were fixed, pests crawled at the edges of the walls, and there was a distinct odor that lingered over the couch that Reeve used as his bed, but he couldn’t ask for better than whatever was available in an emergency.

In the midst of the crowded open-office space, over the din of keyboards and phone calls, Reeve wandered the room for the best signal. He strained to hear Shera, the engineer who had helped band together all the disenfranchised scientists of Rocket Town in a unified effort to keep world-wide communications open. This current conversation doubled as information gathering, her equipment analyzing their signal.

Now standing on top of a desk, Reeve smiled as her voice finally came through perfectly. “There,” Reeve said. “I think that’s got it.” Sadly, the desk wasn’t unoccupied, and the employee working at his desktop awkwardly stared up at Reeve. Reeve could only shrug at him in reply.

“I can hear you much better,” Shera affirmed. “It’s just like I thought, though…The towers in your area are still reading just fine. That only means it’s…it’s interference f-f-from…”

“From Meteor,” Reeve supplied for her. Not many people wanted to address the approaching death sentence by name. It was a fair reaction, he couldn’t judge.

“Yeah,” Shera said softly. “Yeah, that. Anyway, we’re doing our best to strengthen any signals in and around Midgar, but it honestly looks like it’s all on your end, sir. M—It’s just wrecking too much havoc on signals.”

Nodding, Reeve rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I had guessed…but do you think there may be ways to boost signal from our end?”

“If the right equipment can be scavenged up.”

“I have teams who need help, Shera. They’re far enough outside Midgar that reaching them shouldn’t be a problem. Instruct them on what they need to do. Those of us inside need communication.”

“Of course, sir. Before you patch me through, I thought you should know…Director Palmer is here.”

Shaking his head gently, Reeve couldn’t help but smile. “Made it all the way to Rocket Town, did he?”

“He’s been having equipment from outside Midgar brought into town,” Shera said. “And staying out of the way…so, he’s trying as best he can, I guess?”

“Keep an eye on him,” Reeve said with a grin. “I’m sure he doesn’t know you’re telling on him?”

“Of course not, he’d run off.”

“Definitely.”

“Oh, and…Cid left early this morning.”

Reeve nodded. “We’re all supposed to meet back at the _Highwind.”_

“T-T…Tell him I miss him already.”

Sadly, Reeve’s smile softened. They were all changing, even the abrasive, combative Captain Highwind. Reeve remembered that fateful day when the suggestion of going back to Rocket Town or to Shera gave Cid “chills.” Lie or no, it had been shocking to hear the suggestion of Cid being so dismissive of someone who clearly had his best interests at heart. Reeve could only hope there was still time for that change to matter. “He knows.”

“Tell him anyway. And make him tell you what he told me,” Shera added with a short giggle.

“Of course,” Reeve affirmed, half-smiling at whatever secret she felt the need to keep. “Let me get you to the comm teams.”

“Yes, sir.”

As Reeve transferred her, he exhaled deeply. He then looked down at the man working at his computer and trying not to acknowledge Reeve’s presence in the middle of his desk.

Clearing his throat, Reeve hopped off the desk. “Thanks.”

“No problem, sir.”

As he recollected himself and straightened his suit, Reeve thought of the next check-ins he needed to make. As he raised his phone, however, he stopped when he spotted approaching soldiers. Several security officers stepped up to him, one saluting. While more than a few of the Public Security Division had deserted, the vast majority remained resolute. Without the manpower there would have been no hope for Midgar’s people.

“Senior Director,” the soldier informed him, “the clear has been given from the Sector 5 plate.”

Letting out a ragged sigh of relief, Reeve rubbed his face and slicked back his hair. The plate where his mother lived had been cut off from evacuation efforts, but it looked like everything had gone smoothly. “Has anyone gotten word from the Turks?” he pressed. “None of them are answering their phones, they were last seen in that Sector.”

The officers each glanced at each other, and the one who had been speaking cleared his throat. “Well…Yes. Sir, the Turks are here and have requested to speak to you.”

The way the soldier had answered caused Reeve to raise an eyebrow. “…Is there an issue with their phones?”

“It’s best you see in person, sir.”

Everyone being mysterious that day…Reeve looked at the soldiers sideways, then waved them on. “Alright, let me see what they can’t answer calls for.”

The soldiers led Reeve down the office building’s stairs, escorting him out the double doors into the darkened street. As he looked for the quartet in black suits, he started in surprise to find twelve instead. Smiling eagerly, the small mob glanced at one another and nodded in deference to Reeve. His jaw dropped, shocked to see every last Turk that had been considered lost in action all those months ago—yet no trace of Tseng or his subordinates. 

“But, what happened…? You—You’re all here…” Reeve mumbled dumbly. 

Brandishing shuriken, nunchucks, blades, rods, and firearms, the Turks greeted him with a unified, “Sir!”

From the far end of the group, a man at least fifteen years Reeve’s senior stepped forward, causing Reeve’s jaw to slack and his breath to catch in his throat. The man moved aside long, stray strands longer than the rest of his greying-chestnut hair from his right temple. Old, deep scars that lined the left side of his face shifted as he smiled at Reeve. “Senior Director,” he greeted in a deep, rumbling voice.

Unable to think before acting, Reeve threw his arms around his old friend’s shoulders and pulled him into a tight hug—perhaps to make certain he wasn’t a cruel vision from the Lifestream. “Veld…! Veld, you’re alive…! H-How…?”

Awkwardly patting Reeve’s shoulder with his false left hand, Veld Dragoon chuckled. “I’m sorry Tseng and I had to deceive you all.”

Leaning back from him, his hands still planted on Veld’s shoulders, Reeve let out a shocked laugh. “He…He tried to tell me…I think. Does this mean Felicia…?”

Smiling warmly, Veld nodded. “My daughter is safe too.” Gently, Veld removed Reeve’s hands and threw an arched eyebrow at several of the Turks—instantly silencing their sentimental giggling. “My student learned well,” Veld said firmly. “I knew I made the right decision entrusting the Turks to him. Tseng regrets that he and three of his subordinates must announce their formal resignation at this time, as there are matters they must complete that conflict with their orders as Turks. He has returned command to me, and wishes to assure you the group of us will be all the Turk you will need. I agree with him.”

Gawking at the group, bewildered and his eyes stinging, Reeve fumbled over his thoughts. “There’s so much I need to say…”

“For now you need only delegate,” Veld pressed. “The Turks await your orders. There will be time for catching up later.”

Reeve blinked at him, then his gaze shifted toward what little of the open sky could be seen from their spot under the plate. “I’m not sure there will be…”

His face growing hard, Veld shook his head and his lips thinned in disappointment. “Senior Director Tuesti. I was told you worked directly with the Turks for a not insignificant amount of time. Did you take away nothing?”

In confusion Reeve rubbed his neck. “I’m not sure what you…?”

“Tseng informed me of your other efforts,” Veld said. “There’s a part of you doing more for the people of this world than any of us put together. Thus, you have a mission, and for a time you were practically a Turk.”

Finally catching his meaning, a weary smile came to Reeve. “A Turk completes their mission without question.”

Veld grinned in reply. “And failure is not an option. So, please, Senior Director. Give your orders to the Turks so you can focus on saving us all.”

Reeve honestly never thought he would feel gratitude to Tseng, but as he nodded firmly he could only think of how much he wished he could thank Tseng and his team in person. He broke down to Veld what was left of the Shinra presence in Midgar, and what needed to be monitored or completed to speed up the evacuations from the plates to the undercity, and from the undercity out of the basin. Veld listened intently and nodded, gesturing to Reeve periodically to pause as he passed orders to his subordinates. In perfect Turk form they took their assignments with immediate affirmation, and few by few rushed to their new duties.

Reeve called those in the city he could reach to inform them of Veld and the Turks’ collective reinstatement. An order from Chief Veld Dragoon was to be taken as one from Reeve.

Wracking his brain to think if he had missed anything, Reeve rubbed his temple. “I think…I think that’s everything…” he mumbled distantly.

Veld held out his hand. “Then for the time being I’ll take your phone. You need no distractions.”

Hesitantly, Reeve’s lips tightened, unable to relinquish the device. “There might be something else…”

“Reeve,” Veld pressed in a gentle voice. “Your friend Cait is waiting for you. Focus on the mission at hand.”

Sighing, Reeve begrudgingly handed over the phone. “If there’s an emergency I’ll be in my office.”

“There will be, but it will be handled,” Veld assured him with a grin. “I also want to make sure you’re not disturbed.” He nodded shortly to one of the Turks remaining, who eagerly ran up. “I assume you two remember each other?”

The woman with a long, sandy-brown ponytail beamed up at Reeve. She shifted the hold on her shotgun, and gave him a sharp salute.

Reeve let out a surprised chuckle and nodded. “Of course I do. There’s only been one other person to _ever_ pilot a Cait Sith.”

“It’s a pleasure to work with you again,” she affirmed, offering a hand to shake. “I don’t think you ever knew me by anything other than my original codename?”

With a gentle shrug, Reeve shook her hand. “You never gave me anything else.”

“Please call me Freyra,” she said, her smile growing. “I’ll make sure you’re given the space you need, Senior Director.”

“Reeve,” he corrected. “I insist.”

“Lead the way, Reeve,” Freyra said.

As they reached the door to his office, Reeve took a last, long breath to give himself time to think of anything he might have missed. “…I…It might be a while. In an hour could you please bring up some food for me? Whatever is fine.”

Freyra laughed. “Oh, wow. A director that says ‘please’!”

Snickering loudly, Reeve covered his mouth. “Excuse me. You reminded me of someone.”

“Shit. It’s not Reno, is it?”

“Of course not,” Reeve assured her with a smirk and a wave of his hand. He removed his suit coat and draped it over the office chair, then loosened his tie while he sat on the couch. “Will you…be in the room?”

“I can find a chair outside the office,” she replied. “Before you ‘go’…Is it true Captain Highwind is with Cait Sith out there?”

With a soft smile, he nodded. 

“Please make sure he makes it out in one piece, sir,” Freyra said. “If it’s true he’s been to space like the rumors say, then he promised he’d tell me about it. I don’t care if he’s forgotten by now, I plan to hold him to it.”

Chuckling, Reeve gestured to himself. “I mean, I was mostly there too? You can ask anything you like.”

Arching an eyebrow, dubious, Freyra stepped to the door. “No offense, sir, but ‘mostly’ there isn’t exactly there. That and you’re not the one who made a promise.”

“I’ll make sure _all_ of them get out in one piece,” Reeve said. “Thank you, by the way.”

Freyra smirked at him as she eased the door closed.

Leaning back in his seat, Reeve noted light feedback as Cait Sith exited sleep mode. There hadn’t been any interference since the assault on Shinra tower…but who knew how well this Cait Sith would handle going face to face with Sephiroth. Reeve was grateful for the privacy, if he needed to completely take over with his knack no one would interrupt. 

The first voice Reeve heard brought a smile to him. Barret’s familiar base chuckled, and there was a distinctly warm tone to his words as he said, “And will ya lookie here. The good director joined us, after all.”

Reeve was ready. Both of his lives were surrounded by friends. No matter what came, Reeve could face it. 

* * *

The Cait Sith controls held up well enough, but the deeper into the Northern Crater the group traveled, the less responsive any long-distance signals were. Reeve’s hunch had been right, as time went on he had to fully take over his puppet. None of the others would notice a difference, save for the once or twice someone had asked Reeve a question while his mouth was full of food or water—he’d had to have Cait gesture for them to wait before he could answer.

The journey to the depths of the crater was an arduous one, beasts and abominations blocking their way at every turn. Cait Sith watched his companions somehow pull through again and again, fighting against both physical enemies and the more dangerous one, exhaustion. Their breaks were brief, and as the only one not expending more than mental energy, Cait kept watch over them. At the bottom of the darkest depths, bright light signaled the point of no return, and with only a few moments of allowance to breathe, the group leapt in.

~

Jenova’s final howl echoed across the expanse enveloped in the Lifestream’s glow. Everything around the group crumbled, their tenuous footing giving way, and in a panic Cait reached for the closest of his friends. Yuffie’s eyes were wide, and for the first time Reeve truly saw her for as young as she was. She grabbed onto the mooglesaurus’ giant arm, and her mouth opened to speak. Over the rush of wind and the increasing, stabbing brilliance around them, Reeve couldn’t make out what she said.

All fell into darkness.

Barely a whisper, lingering at the very edges of Reeve’s periphery, he almost swore he heard a voice. Hoarse, feminine, and trapped in torturous agony, it wheezed, “H…Hate…I hate…everything…”

Then another, like the light tinkling of a windchime and a warm laughter. In the midst of the darkness, a glow. Not the simultaneously lifegiving and toxic sheen of the Lifestream, not the poisoned hue of Jenova, a soothing, shimmering shine. It was like home, and like the gleam in the eyes of a long-lost friend.

Reeve pushed Cait to respond to his control, and bit by bit the puppet and its mount pulled themselves up. As abstract as the depths had become, this new space barely registered as euclidean at all. A ball of shimmering white pulsated at the center of a tangle of blood red, coral-like splinters—around it drifted chunks of rock. Splayed across them, Cait Sith could see his friends.

Dragging himself to his feet groggily, Barret rubbed his shoulder and hesitantly touched his face. “Ow…” His sunglasses were absent. Irritably, Barret shook his head. “Shit, man…I liked those…”

Cloud’s voice came next. “B-Barret?”

“Yeah,” Barret affirmed, looking around their new surroundings. “Everybody still with us? Say somethin’ if you ain’t dead.”

Weak confirmations sounded off, Cait chiming in. The fact that the puppet was holding up so well was impressive. Not a single Cait Sith model yet had withstood getting thrown around for long, but, despite its buggy controls, this one was stubborn. Reeve was grateful for it, maybe there was some part of his partner that knew how important their mutual task was.

Cloud straightened on his chunk of drifting debris, eyes locked on the aura half-encased in crimson rock. “It’s her…”

However, there was another presence. A pulse shot from around the center, icy and searing at once, thrusting each of the renegades from their perches and holding them off their feet. For half a moment Reeve felt piercing, mako-altered eyes on him, and then a figure blocked his view into the glowing aura. As though submerged in water, sheets of silver hair flowed around the phantom, and the radiance behind him threw his sharp face, tall stature, and black uniform in darkness.

Reeve struggled to regain control of Cait Sith, and he could hear each of his fellows voicing their own inabilities to move. They were _all_ puppets now, the steadfast figure in their way holding them with his mako-altered gaze. Sephiroth stared each of them down like one might consider flies, a nuisance, but nothing more.

Shaking his head, Reeve mumbled, “It’s no good…I can’t…This is what we were trying to fight? How did we think we could?”

_How indeed?_

An icy shudder went down Reeve’s spine as he looked through Cait Sith at Sephiroth. Sephiroth’s eyes faced forward emotionlessly, but Reeve could sense him looking at every one of his foes at the same time…Reeve could see Sephiroth staring him down.

Reeve let out a gasp and instantly was in his office. Wiping sweat off his brow, Reeve shook his head desperately. He hadn’t lost his concentration, had Sephiroth forcibly severed the connection with Cait Sith? “No, no, no…” he groaned, trying to focus. “No, I have to get back…!”

_…You?_

His eyes widening in horror, Reeve slowly raised his head and felt his breath lodge in his throat. There and yet not, Sephiroth stood in the center of the office. With cold, pitiless eyes the vision gazed at and through Reeve. The shimmer of the Lifestream tugged at the edges of this looming apparition, and it took a deliberate step closer.

“You,” Sephitroth’s deep, rumbling voice whispered. “All this time…that ridiculous cat-thing…was _you?”_

Sinking as far into the couch as he could, Reeve’s hands gripped the cushions in terror. “F-Freyra…Freyra!”

Titling his head slightly, an amused smile crossed Sephiroth’s full lips. “How very Shinra of you…to attempt to fight me with an ability that links a part of you to the Lifestream. There is never a solution other than mako, is there? But did you forget so easily…?” 

The door to the office burst open, but with an unconcerned wave of Sephiroth’s hand it instantly slammed shut again. Reeve heard the door rattling and straining against its hinges as Freyra’s voice cried from the other side.

Sephiroth leaned close to Reeve, their noses nearly touching as he grinned savagely. “…I _am_ the Lifestream,” Sephiroth growled. The vision straightened and walked back, and Reeve’s voice cracked as he felt a fraction of himself pull off of the sofa. He was still sitting, still motionless, but everything conscious was leaving the rest of himself behind.

His smile twisting in pleasure, Sephiroth chuckled. “No one who defies me enjoys the benefit of…detachment. Join them as they die, Director.”

Reeve blinked, sensory settling and his breath ragged and stinging. As Cait Sith weakly raised his head, dread filled Reeve. The vision wasn’t the same as usual, it was more concrete, more…present. He smelled the fresh, sharp scent of mako, he felt some trembling surface beneath his feet, he heard the cacophony of battle as his companions fought against Sephiroth—a distorted, angelic being overflowing with the power of the Lifestream itself.

The same way that Reeve was connected to Cait Sith, Sephiroth had pulled Reeve the opposite way. He wasn’t exactly there, but he was present. If the others were going to die here Sephiroth would make absolutely certain they _all_ did.

Hands grabbed Cait under his shoulders and propped him on his mount. Reeve let out a shocked cry, then whipped his head around to face Yuffie as she smiled at him. Her shoulders rose and fell with exhausted breaths, and she idly wiped blood from a cut on her lip. “Hey, I think your voice-thing is on the fritz again.”

Dumbly, Cait Sith nodded. “I’m—surprised any of it works at all…”

“Ew. I like your other voice better,” she said, curling her lip. “For a second there, I thought we weren’t getting you back to fight at all. There’s no backing down now, right? Let’s go.”

“Let’s…Let’s go,” Reeve affirmed, swallowing down his discomfort. It would do no good to waste time describing his predicament. He was only in the same position they were. They were all fighting for their lives, he had no right to do otherwise.

Shuriken in hand, Yuffie propelled herself on nimble feet to rejoin the combat. On considerably-less-graceful feet, Cait Sith directed his mount forward. Being in the middle of a fight was much more hectic than watching from a distance. The faces and forms of his companions flew by him, the pounding of gunfire and a discordant orchestra of magic resonated through the air. Reeve commanded his mount to provide support for his friends, magic flowed through its wide fingers, and gentle layers of shimmering aura appeared around each of them. In the midst of the combat it wasn’t necessary to thank, but Cait Sith could catch nods of approval from Vincent and Nanaki. 

“Don’t you hear it?” Sephiroth crooned, his silken voice booming through the heavenly space around them. “It is the universe, pulsing through me…it invites me onward.”

Like a storm the rebels surrounded their enemy, swirling and leaping to avoid Sephiroth’s retribution. The simultaneously hideous and beautiful entity dragged his eyes over his opponents, a series of blade-like wings that served as his right arm lashed forward. Cloud tumbled from the blow, blood bursting from his thigh. Cid skidded in front of Cloud, knocking follow-up shots back at Sephiroth with twirling swings of his polearm. The distinctive sheen of healing magic over his hand, Cloud passed soft words of gratitude. 

“Gaia was never meant to be more than a stepping stone,” Sephiroth continued. He snapped his left fingers, and Cid and Cloud were forced to retreat as inky orbs descended toward them, cracking and igniting as they neared. “A stepping stone to the heavens.”

As Cid vaulted over Cait Sith, he scoffed, “Sure does love to hear himself talk, don’t he?”

Sephiroth’s focus was drawn to Nanaki as he dove forward, an aura of celestial fire surrounding him. While feathers burned away from the mass of wings that formed his lower body, Sephiroth casually waved his left arm and a series of comet-like blasts chased Nanaki’s wake—throwing him off all four feet and sending him careening in front of Cait Sith.

Cait’s mount grabbed Nanaki by the midsection to help him up, and Cait Sith saw too late he should have been keeping extra eyes on his opponent as Sephiroth swung his right arm again. Stuffing flew through the air, puffing out of a gash in Cait Sith’s waist—and Reeve let out a stunned cry. He doubled over, Cait Sith’s arms wrapping around himself. Cait Sith didn’t have receptors for physical pain, there was no use for a robot to have that kind of thing. Reeve shouldn’t have felt pain at all—but he did feel pain, excruciating pain…!

“C-Cait?” Nanaki whispered in shock. “You’ve _never_ reacted like that…”

“I’m fine…!” Reeve croaked, a distinct worry that it wasn’t true in the forefront of his mind. “I’m fine, it’s not—It’s not real!”

Nanaki’s face skewed, bewildered. “Your voice…”

A whirlwind of black and crimson landed in front of Cait Sith and Nanaki, taking the brunt of another magic blast meant for them. Collapsing in a heap, Vincent shuddered and struggled to pull himself to his knees. “Keep…moving. Don’t let him focus on you…!”

Guilt in his eye, Nanaki cringed and backed away. “I-I wasn’t paying attention…!”

Vincent’s teeth grit, and his breath wheezed and heaved as an ashen tone discolored his skin. “So, move… _Move!”_

Both Nanaki and Cait’s mount dashed away as a groan from Vincent shifted into a raging howl that rattled the air. Wings exploded from his back, and rapidly all that was Vincent Valentine became Chaos. His tattered wings propelled him at Sephiroth, his sickly-yellow eyes burning with both unworldly hate and overwhelming delight. Cloud and Tifa dove aside as Chaos flew at his opponent, unconcerned with the placement—or existence—of his allies, and Sephiroth was forced to single his attention on the trails of flame following wicked claws.

His eyes flashing furiously, Sephiroth called blades of force to fend off Chaos. Chaos broke through each, cackling with bloodlust, and Sephiroth snapped, “Not even a god of this world could stop me!”

“You sure?” Yuffie shouted. “Cuz I got one that wants to test that!”

A gust of wind carrying a scent like a storm over the sea signaled the arrival of the spirit of Wutai. Leviathan hissed and lashed with bared teeth, with every lunge and strike spears of water rose and launched from its path. Throwing off the dragon’s jaws from his abdomen, Sephiroth sent dark orbs at it. Struck repeatedly, the serpent writhed and luminescence dotted across its scales to signal its return to the ether—but as it began to fade a figure leapt from its back. 

Using the momentum of Leviathan’s escape, Tifa grappled Sephiroth, planting one booted foot in his back as she gripped his winged right arm. With a powerful thrust of her other foot, a series of sickening crunches and cracks sounded from the tangle of wings. As Sephiroth threw his head back and howled in agony, Tifa screamed, “That’s for my _father,_ you bastard!”

Sephiroth’s other hand lashed out and clamped around Tifa’s throat, pulling her off him. A choked sound escaped her as he viciously threw her, lacerations bursting across her exposed skin. Like a red mist, blood flew through the air as Tifa heavily hit what passed for ground in this place. Everyone called out her name as Tifa shuddered and feebly spat out red where she layed.

Cloud landed in front of her and threw up his sword to block further attacks. Barret jumped to his side, furiously howling over a hail of bullets.

“Not now—” Cloud whispered, trying desperately to steady his hand over Tifa to cast. “C’mon, not now…!”

At once, ethereal flowers bloomed under Tifa, gold, pink, and white blossoming from nothing. Glowing particles of Lifestream drifted all around Tifa and a soothing breeze passed around the battle-worn renegades. Tifa took in a deep breath as blood faded from her skin and she blearily opened her eyes.

“You…” Sephiroth’s face fell, paling in disbelief. “Why won’t you _die?_ You can’t fight me from the Lifestream, half-breed. I control _all_ of it!”

Looking down at himself, Cait Sith laughed as he watched the rips and tears across him mend—seams shimmering and solidifying in place. “It is you, isn’t it…?”

Chaos recoiled and folded his wings around himself, grudgingly depositing Vincent back into the battle. Landing at the ready, Vincent drew his revolver and called to his companions, “Aerith’s still with us. We can’t allow ourselves to waste her effort.”

“Let’s finish this,” Cloud agreed, his brow hardening defiantly.

Sephiroth thrashed under a newly unified effort. Magic, bullets, blades, fists, claws, spears, and dice bombarded the abomination as he frantically threw counterattacks in every direction. “You’re only mortal…!” he seethed viciously. “I am divine.”

After a sharp whistle, Barret motioned to Cloud. “Now!”

Without the need for words, Cloud ran at him and nimbly hopped up. With a furious cry, Barret swung his arm, Cloud’s boots landed on Barret’s palm only long enough to be flung upward. His sword raised, Cloud stared down his opponent and grit his teeth.

In the span of the blink of an eye, Reeve could swear an after-image of Cloud brought down an identical Buster Sword—a pair of pearly wings sprouting from it before the ghostly image and Cloud’s shared strike hit its mark.

Gasping for air and shudders wracking his entire, twisted body, Sephiroth’s gaze grew distant. Bit by bit cracks crawled over Sephiroth’s skin and his too-many limbs grew limp.

“M-M…Mother…” 

Moisture welled in his unnaturally-blue eyes. “I don’t…belong here…don’t make me stay…!” Sephiroth’s spasming, disintegrating hand reached for a star he would never see. 

* * *

“Get over here!” Freyra cried from the top of the stairs.

Veld rushed between the other Turks surrounding the office, and followed Freyra inside. Deep, fresh pools of blood stained the office’s couch, drawing a line to the middle of the floor where Reeve lay motionless. Cissnei held an oxygen mask over Reeve’s mouth, and looked up at Veld in worry. Crimson soaked through Reeve’s shirt all around his abdomen—it had been unbuttoned to apply some kind of first aid or healing, but the skin was completely untouched. With the amount of blood there should have been some kind of mark on Reeve, no matter how much magic had been layered on a wound.

Swallowing hard, Veld knelt beside Cissnei, easing out of his suit coat on his left side to better use his prosthetic. “Is he not breathing?”

“He is,” Cissnei said, nodding. “But it’s very weak. His skin was getting pale. I also can’t get his heart rate to normal with the first aid supplies here.”

“Whose blood is that?”

“It’s his,” Cissnei said, her lips tightening. “With how much he lost he shouldn’t still be here.”

Standing nearby, Alvis grumbled as he flipped through his materia. “We didn’t heal him. He won’t respond to magic at all.”

Frowning, Veld looked to Freyra. “What happened?”

“I don’t know!” Freyra blurted defensively. “He called for help—there was _nothing_ in the room, by the way—the door locked me out on its own, and by the time I forced it open he was just—just sitting on the couch and wouldn’t respond. I—He was split open, Chief—not deep, but the bleeding just wouldn’t _stop,_ and nothing would close it. Then just before you got here, the wound just—it just stitched itself up like nothing had ever been there.”

His brow hardening, Veld took in this information. He flexed the fingers of his left hand. The synthetic, hardened plates in his palm parted and a shimmer of gold pulsed through the rubbery skin—embedded materia glinting just below the surface. Veld placed his hand on Reeve’s forehead, allowing his unique bond with magic flow through his unconscious form. What Veld found made little sense, and his jaw fell agape. “…He’s…empty.”

The three of his subordinates in the room glanced between each other. Cissnei hesitantly asked, “What…do you mean ‘empty’?” 

Baffled, Veld shook his head. “Just…nothing. Nothing that can be healed is there. Everything alive has a touch of the Lifestream…not him.”

Abruptly Reeve’s eyes shot open and he jolted to a seated position, causing everyone to stumble back from him—Alvis dropping his baton and blurting out a stream of profanities. Coughing raggedly, Reeve flopped onto his back again, shaking as he rubbed his face and plucked strands of his hair away from his mouth. Blearily, he looked between all of the shocked faces gawking at him, then awkwardly strained to notice his shirt open and the blood on his clothes…and the trail of it leading to the couch. In confusion he mumbled, “What in…? Oh…Oh, _that’s_ why I felt light-headed…”

Veld let out a haggard sigh of relief. “Welcome back, Reeve.” He would have to ask just how far Reeve had gone later.

“What happened?” Freyra said, rushing to her knees beside them. “I tried to help, I swear I did!”

Nodding weakly and catching his breath, Reeve limply patted her shoulder. “I know, I know. You—You couldn’t have done anything…” His gaze fixed on Veld, and very subtly he smiled. “We—We did it, Veld. He’s dead,” Reeve whispered dryly. “Sephiroth is gone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH HOLY HELL, YOU GUYS 
> 
> This is not just one of the most important parts of the original Final Fantasy 7, it's setting up a great deal of what I want to do after "Through Another's Eyes."
> 
> According to Before Crisis, Veld Dragoon and the Before Crisis Turks were in fact in Midgar helping with the evacuation. In canon Veld and the other Turks are only delegated to prequel "not really important" statues, but in my mind they're too important to write off. So, from here on they're important. While our dear Freyra (Shotgun) is the one who gets to hang out with both Cid and Cait Sith in my timeline of events, she didn't do every mission--I know which Turk did what in my mind. 
> 
> Yuffie and Vincent are not in Midgar like Dirge of Cerberus suggests because that is s t u p i d. 
> 
> I debated writing out the whole last fight but I'm so glad I did. Sephiroth was more fun to write than I thought he would be. 
> 
> Zack got his wings, you guys. TT A TT


	13. An Answered Prayer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sephiroth is gone, but Meteor isn't. While Elmyra and Marlene watch from a distance, Reeve must watch from the ground. Will Holy arrive in time for those trapped in Midgar?

Elmyra shut the last of the windows, forcing out the fiery haze from Midgar, and flinched as Marlene let out another sobbing wail. Shaking her head heavily, Elmyra slowly and carefully descended to Marlene’s bedroom—the weight on her shoulders on the verge of throwing off her balance with each step. She meekly eased on the edge of Marlene’s bed, and gently stroked the top of the girl’s head as she wept.

“It’s going to be okay,” Elmyra whispered.

Marlene shook her head violently, her face buried against her knees.

Unsure how to give assurance to the girl when she had run out of hope herself, Elmyra sighed and continued to pat Marlene’s back. “Sometimes things don’t happen the way we want them to, but that’s still okay—”

“I miss Wedge,” she sobbed, rubbing her face. “He knew…He knew…all the cats and they—they would come when he called. And Biggs, he—he played games with me—and Jessie, she read books the best. She did all the voices…But the plate…the plate…”

Like a stab to her gut, Elmyra was struck by Marlene’s words and her jaw went slack. Marlene  _ never _ spoke of the plate drop. “M…Marlene…”

“You said the sky couldn’t fall!” Marlene choked out, raising her head. “You said—You said the plate can’t fall here!”

Elmyra couldn’t believe that she had let herself forget where Marlene came from. How long had Marlene had been suffering alone? Elmyra had let losing Aerith blind her. “Oh, Marlene…”

“It’s falling!” Marlene sobbed, lowering her head again. “I don’t wanna go to the Lifestream…I wanna stay here…”

Elmyra scooped Marlene in her arms, letting her cry against her. “It’s not like the plate,” she forced herself to whisper. For one, people said all life would be wiped out so quickly that no one would feel anything. It would just all be over. “J-Just remember your father is still trying to stop this.”

“I miss Daddy…” she mumbled between shaky breaths.

“I know. Do you want…Do you want some ice cream?”

Marlene nodded her head into Elmyra’s shoulder.

“Come on.” Every step up the kitchen was a strain, Elmyra’s footfalls like lead as she carried a limp Marlene. As she reached the kitchen she set down Marlene and gestured for her to sit at the table. “Do you want chocolate chips?”

Marlene nodded again, wiping her face. She no longer had the energy to cry in more than droning breaths.

Elmyra turned her back to get two bowls and the scoop, then heard Marlene call her name weakly. “Yes, dear?”

“I want milk, too.”

“Sure. You can have some milk with your ice cream tonight.”

“Nevermind, I want apple juice.”

“Whatever you say,” Elmyra chuckled tiredly. As she reached in the pantry for the chocolate chips, her hand paused over the tin of sleeping weed tea. Swallowing hard, she forced herself to reach past it. Would it be so wrong to have tea after ice cream? If the two of them woke up again, it would be a beautiful thing, but if they didn’t, they wouldn’t even know…

Elmyra was  _ such _ a coward.

She snatched the bag of candies and pulled herself back up. No. Elmyra wasn’t going to waste any more time thinking of her own sorrows. As she stood, she put on her bravest smile and turned to Marlene. However, it instantly fell when she saw Marlene had wandered to the porch doors and opened them, bathing the kitchen in the fiery glow over Midgar.

Swallowing, trying to steady her pounding heartbeat, her hold on the chocolate bag clenched. Elmyra ventured, “…Marlene, don’t you want to sit at the table?”

“Did you hear?” Marlene asked, only a curious puzzlement in her face. “Didn’t you hear the flower lady—I mean, Miss Aerith?”

“W…What did you just say?”

* * *

Reeve straightened the only clean shirt that had been available, a discarded T-shirt from some team-building event who-knew-how-many years before. In bold, deco text it read “The Future is Bright!” above a stylized mako reactor and the Shinra logo. It was not exactly his size, but it was absent bloodstains, so it had that going for it.

The rumbling in the building was getting worse as Reeve and Veld ascended the stairs, the small army of Turks following behind. 

“If Meteor is like any other summon, ending the life of the caster immediately drops the spell,” Veld said in a low voice as they climbed.

“…I don’t know,” Reeve said anxiously. “It…It’s anything but typical. We didn’t destroy Sephiroth to stop the summon, it was to allow another spell to be able to reach out of the Lifestream. Though it…certainly would be nice if the summon was disrupted…Just once it would be nice if something was less complicated.”

Reeve opened the door to the crimson darkness on the roof, and a numbness fell over him as he stared up at the completely unchanged Meteor. A heavy weight pressed on his shoulders with every strained step to the center of the roof. He swallowed dryly, moving his hair aside as the violent winds whipped strands of it in his face. It had been nearly twenty minutes since Cloud claimed to have wiped Sephiroth from the Lifestream entirely. 

There was no change in Meteor at all. Not a bit.

Where was Holy…?

Veld stood beside him, his arms folded across his broad chest as he waited. “…Was there nothing else that the spell you mentioned needed?”

Hollow, Reeve shook his head. “It…It was already cast…it just needed Sephiroth’s interference removed to allow it to reach its target…”

A violent boom shook the entirety of Midgar, and all of those on the roof were nearly thrown off their feet. From the looming Meteor, swirling gusts of wind danced between arcs of flame and plasma—tearing across the plates above and causing hideous groans through the supports. It was these extended, metallic shudders and the ominous rumbling that chilled Reeve to the bone, gripping his body in a primordial terror. He knew nothing in the infrastructure should  _ ever _ emit that sort of moaning—and it was growing louder. 

The plates would collapse on the undercities before Meteor  _ ever _ got close enough to crush Midgar… 

“Please, not like this…” Reeve whispered under his breath, visions of the Sector 7 plate’s fall playing and replaying in his mind. He hadn’t been there in person, but through Cait Sith’s eyes he had seen it. Again Reeve saw the buildings and concrete crumbling, again he heard the collapsing metal, and the distant memories of the vaguest screams reaching him returned. “Not like this…” Reeve groaned, shaking his head.

A ripple flowed through the sky between Meteor and Midgar. Brilliant white, it spread and swirled, reaching in every direction and filling the air with a soothing glow.

“That’s it!” Freyra shouted, jumping in excitement. “That’s Holy, right?!”

A relieved laugh fell from Reeve, and he doubled over, propping his hands on his knees as his entire body gratefully untensed. They had made it in time…Cheers and jubilant laughter passed between the Turks. However, the celebration drained to silence. Reluctant to see what had changed the reaction, Reeve straightened back up. His stomach lurched, like the chord of an elevator had been cut beneath him.

Holy parted. The white magic fought against the Meteor, but its strength clearly failed. Searing red overtook the sky once more as Meteor pushed through the barrier, and the quakes throughout Midgar intensified exponentially. Reeve could see the approaching planetoid’s aura ripping through the remains of Shinra tower above. 

Several of the Turks fell to their knees, others held each other. One with a blonde bob cut wept openly, crying out that she hadn’t been able to see her sister in time. 

Numb, Reeve closed his eyes to return to the  _ Highwind. _ Those who had fought for the planet crowded around the bow’s windows, as dumbstruck as those in Midgar.

Barret slammed his natural hand against a control panel. “We can’t let this happen…!” he seethed, then turned to Cait Sith, his face pale. For the first time Cait could see honest affection from Barret Wallace, his expression speaking what he would never form into words.

Reeve would be the first to die, all of them knew this. Their gazes fell on Reeve’s surrogate in gnawing despair. 

Unable to reply immediately, Cait looked between the others. Meekly, Cait Sith mimed wiping his eyes and shook his head. “Aye…Aye tried. Aye tried to get out as many people as Aye could. There’s still so many in the undercity… _ Aye’m _ in…”

Nanaki rubbed against Cloud’s legs, his voice strained as he said, “It’s too late for Holy. It’s  _ feeding _ Meteor.”

Reeve needed to say goodbye. Before he lost the chance. He just had to say it. Cait Sith opened his mouth to speak, then a voice beside Reeve interrupted his efforts.

“…I didn’t…I didn’t get to say goodbye…”

Reeve returned to Veld, taking in the shell shocked expression of his friend. 

“I didn’t say goodbye to Felicia. I was so sure…” Veld murmured. He stared up at the sky distantly, moisture rolling down his face. Startled by the alien sensation, Veld blinked several times and tentatively placed his fingertips to his wet skin. “I haven’t once…Not…Not since my wife…”

In an identical daze, Reeve placed a hand on Veld’s shoulder and nodded to him solemnly. Another hand rested next to Reeve’s, belonging to a solidly-built young woman with long hair and a stern expression. Then Freyra set hers on Veld’s other shoulder, then more hands reached for the Turk Chief and for one another, no words passing between them. 

“It’s been a pleasure to…be your Chief,” Veld said quietly. “All of you.”

Reeve wished he could have physically been with Cloud and the others, but being beside Veld in the middle of his closely-knit team was as good a place as any to be. There was no such thing as a good position now. Reeve and Freyra met eyes and he passed a pained grimace that matched hers.

One of the Turks, a boyish man with blonde curls, said, “W…Do you hear that?”

Over the groans of the Midgar infrastructure, despite the raging storms and gouts of flame, a new sound rose. Emitting whispers and chimes heard with the soul rather than with ears, rivers of lustrous emerald flowed from the ground, swirling upwards. One after another the dancing ribbons climbed from the concrete, and passed around those left in the city on their way to Meteor.

* * *

Marlene whispered, “It’s coming.”

Slowly, Elmyra brought herself to Marlene, her eyes wide in awe at the sight of the rapidly expanding net of lights forming between Meteor and Midgar. “That’s…Is that the Lifestream?”

“Do you hear her?”

Elmyra gaped at Marlene, stunned. Marlene didn’t take her eyes off the scene in the distance. “…Hear…Hear who, Marlene?”

_ You know who she means, don’t be silly. _

With a gasp, Elmyra’s hands covered her mouth. A figure like an after-image stood over Marlene, a delicate hand on the girl’s shoulder. If Emlyra stared too hard the apparition would vanish, then come back into focus. Its tenuous presence was barely visible enough to make out the pair of gentle, green eyes, a long, trailing braid, and a loving smile.

“Aerith…”

_ Look, Mom. The planet heard us  _ all. _ It’s not just the Ancients’ prayer, it’s everyone’s.  _

Afraid to turn her head away for even a moment, Elmyra lifted a shaky hand near the vision. “Don’t leave me…”

_ I never did. _

Swallowing, Elmyra shook her head. Dryly she whispered, “You were all I had.”

The vision’s face grew hurt, and the hand on Marlene patted her shoulder meaningfully.  _ Didn’t I bring them all to you? _

“What?”

_ They’re all kind of a mess. All of them. They’ll need you. Gotta go. _

“Wait—!”

The sky flashed bright beyond day, completely swallowed by a dazzling brilliance that erupted through the night. Elmyra stumbled back, hitting the floorboards and covering her eyes. 

Then all was silent.

As reality gradually resolidified, Elmyra blinked away the white in her vision. Bit by bit it faded, forming into the kitchen table, the chairs, the rug, the patio. Marlene was rubbing her eyes and blinking as well, still standing at the porch railing. From Kalm below, Elmyra could hear voices joining in elation.

“Miss Elmyra!” Marlene squealed, hopping up and down. “Look! Look, the sky isn’t falling. You were right, you were right!”

Dragging herself to her feet, Elmyra moved to the railing beside Marlene. Over Midgar the sky was still and quiet, all that had once been Meteor now a glittering shower of shining snow. Speechless, unsure of how to register the scene in the distance, Elmyra sank into one of the patio chairs. She could do nothing but gaze dumbly ahead.

“Miss Elmyra?”

“Yes, dear?” she whispered numbly.

“Can I still have ice cream?”

Elmyra allowed a bewildered laugh, rubbing her face. “Let’s make ourselves sick on it.”

* * *

Reeve held out a hand, allowing reflective particles to brush against his skin and vanish. In a shocked daze, his eyes drifted between the debris over Midgar like twinkling snowfall, and over those on the roof currently swept up in the release of weeks of dread and despair. The woman who had been crying for her sister was now crying even louder, limply sitting on the ground and bawling. Freyra grabbed anyone remotely near her space bubble and jumped in elation, screaming giddily. Others hugged one another, brandished their side arms in victory, and danced through the drifting remains of Meteor, overcome by the simple joy of living another day. 

The nightmare was over.

“Hey, Tuesti!” one of the Turks, a slim, tall man with broad shoulders and red hair shouted. “You’ve made the List. That’s right, the List is  _ back on!” _

Reeve arched an eyebrow in bewilderment. “I’m sorry…?”

Another slapped this man’s chest, her slim face in a scowl. “God _ dammit! _ Can you ever  _ not _ ruin a moment, Claude?!”

“You’re still on it, Violet.”

“I will  _ never _ be on your list—Get ‘lesbian’ through your tiny mind!”

With a sharp snap, Claude lowered his sunglasses to give her a grin. “I’m calling that ‘penciled in’.”

Running his hands through his sunny curls, the young man with nunchucks at his side let out stunned laughter. “You know what? Why the hell  _ not?  _ Cross my name off, Claude.”

Without pause, Claude swept up the shorter man, draped him over his shoulder, and wordlessly strolled toward the stairs. The man slung on his shoulder continued laughing, throwing peace signs to his compatriots. “Later, guys!”

Cheers, whistles, and calls of “Later Corin!” followed after their dramatic exit.

Reeve started as Veld drew him into a firm hug, laughing. “You  _ did _ it. You  _ did _ it, you son of a bitch.” He leaned back from Reeve, gripping his shoulders and a wide smile across his chiseled face. He promptly let out a surprised grunt as he was quickly overtaken by his overly-eager subordinates. “Get—!”

Watching Veld seething and struggling to pry himself from a tangle of simultaneous, emotional embraces, Reeve scratched the back of his head and chuckled. Reeve wasn’t so sure he  _ had _ done it, but he supposed he couldn’t claim he had no hand in this victory at all.

A soft laugh shook his shoulders as the words repeated in his mind. Reeve had a hand in this. Beyond the shadow of a doubt, Reeve Tuesti had a hand in the next day’s sunrise. For once, for  _ once _ he couldn’t deny responsibility for something that had done inarguable good. He had the chance to make things right. The whole world had the chance to make it right. Midgar could rest forever, but Reeve’s work had only just begun.

Staring up, he spread his arms to welcome the last, glistening specks of Meteor into the silent, darkened Midgar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My friends, what an agonizing chapter this was to write, but still extremely uplifting. Did you want some Toy Story 3 shit up in here? WELL, TOO BAD, IT'S WHAT YOU GET.
> 
> Marlene's descriptions of AVALANCHE is, of course, heavily influenced by FF7Remake. The plate drop is brought up fairly rarely in the original game, yet I have a very hard time something that traumatic wouldn't be remembered.
> 
> The Before Crisis Turks are all using the names complied in this Tumblr post, all them from either cannon via The Last Order, Crisis Core, or the closest to cannon there is for them.
> 
> Oh, and Reeve's stupid shirt? Based heavily on the time period I worked in a major telecom company and they gave out T-shirts at least once every couple of months. I have three from them and was there maybe half a year. wtf
> 
> Aerith would absolutely say the rest of Cloud's team were a mess, and she'd absolutely be right.


	14. Through His Own Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meteor is destroyed, as is Sephiroth, and all of Gaia is facing a new day. As the last of Shinra leadership stepping up to pick up the pieces, Reeve Tuesti must face a world that must turn away from mako, and the omen of a disease spreading through the refugees of Midgar.

The shattering of Meteor should have been humanity’s greatest, undeniable victory. It wasn’t. While the night beckoned a new dawn, a promise of humanity’s continued existence, the day came with unforeseen consequences.

The young Turks’ name was Alvis. What Alvis had first insisted must have been a hangover spontaneously caused hacking, wet coughs. Less than an hour later he collapsed, his body succumbing to seizures, and he spat up inky fluid. 

Despite every effort of medical teams, Alvis of the Turks was the first recorded fatality. 

As the morning drew on, Reeve received more reports from the refugee camps that some kind of infection was spreading and claiming victims distressingly fast. What members of the Science Division that hadn’t disappeared after Cloud’s assault on Shinra tower—and Hojo’s death—had many a theory on what they were looking at, but certainly no answers. Tests were being done with the limited equipment available (that didn’t need more than mako batteries to function) to determine if the black infection was bacterial, fungal, or some form of horrifically-fast-acting carcinogen. 

While it would take time to confirm if it was actually connected, the working name of this alien condition was “Meteor Crash.” 

Reeve had wanted nothing more than to enjoy waking up to a new day, to revel in the thrill of facing Sephiroth and surviving—or at least to be grateful that Gaia had taken pity on humanity as a whole. Meteor Crash was a grim reminder that there would be no rest for those who hadn’t abandoned Shinra, and the people who depended on Shinra. There was still too much left to do.

The door of the moving truck shut, and the crew waved to each other to signal it was ready to depart. With the last of the Sector 4 headquarters packed and being shipped out of the Midgar Basin, Reeve had some time to focus on a more personal crisis.

The call went to voicemail yet again and Reeve hung up. Letting out a haggard sigh, he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“No word from your mother?”

Reeve shook his head tiredly, meeting Veld’s steel-eyed gaze. “It…It’s probably just a connection issue. Maybe her phone is out of power…”

His lips tightened in concern. “I can take over on the ground for a while. Why don’t you oversee the recovery efforts in Sector 5?”

“Don’t you…still have…Are they handling it well?” Reeve said, fumbling over his thoughts.

Glancing away, Veld let out a long breath. “They’re young, but they’re Turks. They’ll mourn when there’s time.”

“I’m so sorry.”

 _“I’ll_ mourn when there’s time,” Veld added gently. “Even if Alvis didn’t fall on mission, we all accept that any of us could die at any time. We can only continue our own work.”

Uncomfortably, Reeve tapped his phone in his palm. “I…I don’t think I have that kind of resolve in me.”

“You do,” Veld insisted with a weary smile. “Why don’t you see what’s in Sector 5?”

Reeve didn’t really want to, but he accepted maybe it was the only way to know for sure. If nothing else, seeing his mother’s home would give him some hint of if she had evacuated or remained as stubborn as usual. “…Thank you.”

Veld whistled sharply, waving over one of his subordinates. Veld gave a short nod to Reeve, passing along what stoicism he could, then turned away to other tasks. As the young, blonde woman approached, a smile came to Reeve, surprised to see this familiar face. 

“Elena, you cam—Wait,” Reeve said quickly—noticing the slightly different cut of her hair, blue eyes rather than brown, and the several inches of height less this woman had than Elena. “I’m so sorry. What was your name again?”

She smirked at him in amusement. “Emma.”

“Emma,” Reeve affirmed with a nod. “I’m so sorry, you two look so much alike. Have you managed to reach her yet?”

Her smile widened and her face softened. “No. Who knows where Tseng’s team went? But no matter how hard she tries to hide, I’ll find my sister eventually. She’s gonna make some airheaded mistake sooner or later.”

The fact the Turk’s collective loss didn’t show on Emma’s face was impressive. Chuckling, Reeve smiled back. While Emma’s words were cutting, the tone of voice was nothing but affectionate. Sometimes he wondered what not being an only child would have been like. “Would you…Would you escort me to the Sector 5 plate?”

“Of course, Senior Director.”

* * *

The condition of Sector 5’s plate was unsurprising, but it was the first time Reeve had seen any of the devastation in person. Few buildings stood at all, and crews struggled to sift through the crumbled homes and businesses with limited tools. They needed better than what they had, but Reeve had to face the reality of a world that had no choice but to reject mako use. Efficiency would have to be sacrificed—perhaps for a very long time to come. Despite how much mako had cost the world, would the people be willing to let it go for even the short term?

Reeve’s brow grew hard as he lost himself in thought. Shinra storage facilities worldwide were full of hardware from before the mako era. How quickly could he coordinate efforts to pull it out and get that equipment running? How much manpower could he devote when evacuation and salvage efforts were so much more immediately needed in Midgar? Maybe bring in people from outside Midgar? Then there was the question of powering any of it—any non-mako power refinement had nearly come to a complete halt in the last decade. Rocket Town had the largest concentration of alternate power sources, the city had been largely self-sufficient from the time it was built. If Reeve spoke to the engineers—

_“Director!”_

Reeve started, his head spinning on Emma in shock. “Yes?!”

“We’ve been stopped for nearly five minutes,” Emma said cautiously. “When you get lost in thought, you _really_ get lost there, don’t you?”

Blushing, Reeve cleared his throat awkwardly. “I have uh, a lot to think about.”

She gave him a sympathetic smile. “I’m sure you do. Come on.”

Reeve was not eager to step out of the chopper, but he did. Instantly, his heart grew heavy as he soaked in the sight of the residential street. Collapsed homes lined each side of the road, he shook his head in dismay as he searched for landmarks. So little of what he remembered remained. An errant street sign, some vaguely recognizable house paint…

Emma jogged to several abandoned cars parked next to the sidewalk and studied them. “Looks like refugees already went through here,” she said loudly enough to reach him. “The tanks are drained. Probably anyone capable of being rescued already was earlier. But teams are supposed to be getting to this sector within the hour, sir.”

Reeve didn’t reply. He came to a halt in front of a demolished home, staring at the intact number plate lying on the curb. His hands in his pockets, he wordlessly took in the splintered wood, the way the second floor had fallen into the first, the crushed furniture strewn about the fake, dust-covered lawn…Barely anything remained of his mother’s house.

Reeve vividly remembered the day he had walked both his parents to the sidewalk, enthusiastically showing off what his newly-gained position on the executive board had afforded him. They didn’t have to stay in Kalm, they could be right next to him and take advantage of the standard of living Midgar allowed. They had been so proud, his mother had openly cried while his ailing father had congratulated him…It was one of the last good memories he’d had with his father. All of those memories were now buried under destruction.

Gradually, Reeve moved forward, cautiously stepping around debris and layers of dust. He eased himself through the skeleton of the front door, and coughed as his presence kicked up particles. Emma silently eased beside him, solemnly awaiting some signal from him.

“…There’s not much left,” Reeve murmured, afraid to bring his voice high enough to disturb the silence.

Emma patted his shoulder and walked past him, her icy-blue eyes scanning what was likely once the kitchen. “If anyone is here, can you hear us?” she called out loudly, startling Reeve. She continued calling as she began peering through heavier tangles of beams and siding.

Reeve would leave the more formal duties to her. He busied himself with drowning in bittersweet nostalgia. His mother had made those curtains herself, they were in tatters and stained…Every last photo had been knocked down and the glass shattered. His grandfather’s piano had been crushed when the second floor collapsed…He could almost picture the aging man with white hair seated at the keys, playing with his long, gnarled fingers…

Reeve paused. The sofa was in one piece, but dark stains covered it, sending a shiver down his spine. Blackened smears, dried, but not old…

“Sir!” came from the direction of the back yard. “This way. You’ll want to see this.”

No, he really didn’t. 

“Coming.” Every step was like through tar, his limbs rebelling against him taking the path to the backyard. As he ducked under a fallen beam, he noted Emma standing next to an area of the plot. Debris had been moved aside, and a marker sat in the ground above freshly-dug earth. Emma’s face was soft as he approached. She turned her eyes down and held her hands in front of herself respectfully.

Reeve brought himself to a stop in front of the marker. It had been formed from scrap metal, and letters scraped into it with some tool clearly not meant for the task. With eyes that regarded it from a million miles away Reeve read the scrawling letters forming, “Ruby Tuesti, Wife, Mother, Friend.”

He reached a hand to touch the marker, but paused, noticing how precarious it likely was. Chunks of concrete had just been piled around it to hold up the plate. A firm enough push would knock it over. However, it would have taken a strong hand to carve out the writing or move rubble…who made it?

Emma gently cleared her throat. “Sir?”

In a daze, Reeve eased both of his hands in his pockets. “Hm?”

“It…There’s no guarantee she’s here,” Emma offered gently. “Once salvage teams get to this sector, we can have this dug—”

 _“No!”_

Emma’s mouth immediately closed and she bit her lip.

Reeve rested a hand over his eyes and steadied his breath, having startled himself at his extreme reaction as well. “No. No, there’s…There’s no need. She’s here. It’s her,” he whispered hoarsely. “It’s her…I just—I just know.” 

He flinched as a soothing hand patted his arm. Emma looked at him, her lips forming a thin line. “I’m sorry, Mr. Tuesti.”

Silently, Reeve nodded and lowered his gaze back at the grave. 

Emma stepped back from him. “Sir, I can make some calls for a bit. Take the time you need.”

“I’m fine,” he mumbled. “We should probably…”

 _“Please,_ take some time, sir.”

Numbly, he nodded. All around him fell still. Reeve wasn’t sure how far away he was this time, but nothing felt concrete. He didn’t hear Emma walk away, he was unaware of how long he stared at the packed earth, he didn’t feel himself walk up the precarious dregs of the stairs to sit at the edge of the second floor hall, but he was suddenly there. He dully sat at the demolished floor’s edge, his legs dangling over the living room and staring down at the black-stained sofa. 

Reeve dragged his face back up to move his attention to the view of his dead city. The ravaged Shinra tower loomed in the distance, empty and dark, and the spine of the silent and cavernous train rails spiraled to the undercity below. 

Midgar wasn’t meant to survive without mako. Reeve supposed the only thing to be done was salvage as much as possible from Midgar and move the entire city out. Maybe closer to the edge of where life thrived. It would likely be easy to convince the plate denizens, the undercity folk would be a greater task. They had stayed in Midgar when there certainly hadn’t been a good reason, would they agree to abandon it?

What else needed to be done? The refugee camps didn’t have enough supplies. Water, food, power…Would any of the surrounding city states be willing to cooperate with Midgar’s relocation efforts when Midgar had made its reputation as a purely corporate entity? Would they only negotiate if an uninterrupted distribution of mako continued? Mako allotment had to focus on keeping emergency services and medical research operational—and very little else. Humanity shouldn’t be using mako at all, but how quickly could an entire world’s power structure really be changed?

Thinking of medical teams…The black stains on the sofa came back to him. His mother had been taken by Meteor Crash. It had to be. The disease wasn’t a peaceful death. The whimpers and wails from the victims, the hacking, sopping coughs, the spasms and seizures, the rapid decay of the bodies…

And where was Denzel? Only someone much stronger than an eight-year old could have buried Reeve’s mother, or made the marker. Emma had mentioned the likelihood of scavenger caravans…

The shattering of Meteor should have been humanity’s greatest, undeniable victory. There was no victory Reeve Tuesti had that didn’t come without cost. 

It was so hard to concentrate on any one thought. Had Reeve’s phone been ringing? What was that sound?

“Can you hear me?”

Reeve gasped and he spun to face the voice that had been calling his name. At the bottom of the stairs a young man stared up at him, a face that Reeve had seen over and over again and yet never met over more than visions. The man awkwardly rubbed the back of his head, rustling the many, blonde spikes, and his mako-altered eyes shifted to the floor. “Uh…” the young man mumbled, idly stretching out the shoulder covered by a SOLDIER uniform’s paldron. “Are you…Are you Reeve Tuesti? I mean, the Turk outside said you’d be in here…and you look like the footage…”

“Cloud…” Reeve whispered, stunned. “It’s you.”

Cloud started to lean a hand against the stairs’ railing, but immediately withdrew his hand when it shifted. Recollecting himself, he took tentative steps forward. “Yeah…Yeah, it _is_ you…”

Easing himself to his feet by degrees, Reeve met him at the top of the stairs. “You’re…not as tall as I thought you were.”

Cloud chuckled and shrugged. “And I honestly expected to hear Cait’s voice out of you. I mean, I know I’ve heard your voice before, but…”

Reeve shrugged back. “I know.”

A long silence passed, Cloud glancing away and wrestling with some thought he couldn’t put into words.

“I wish circumstances could have been better,” Reeve said in a low voice for him.

A soft sigh made Cloud’s shoulders rise and fall. “Yeah. She, uh, the Turk told us what happened.”

“Emma.”

“What?”

“Her name is Emma.”

“O-Oh. Sure.”

“Us?” Reeve repeated.

Cloud titled his head slightly. “Huh?”

“You said ‘us.’”

A sad smile on his face, Cloud nodded. “Sure. All of us. Cait hadn’t come out of sleep mode since last night…We…We got worried. Midgar’s a mess, there’s some kind of disease…”

Reeve had forgotten to check in all day. Wearily, he rubbed his face. “Oh. I’m so sorry. I—I lost track of time.”

“You’re…sorry?”

“I made you come all this way.”

“Why wouldn’t we have?”

“I mean…”

Cloud took several steps down and gestured toward the front of the house. “Come meet them.”

“Pardon?”

“You want to, right?” Cloud asked, his eyes swiveling to the floor uncomfortably. 

His mind in a fog, Reeve blinked and cleared his throat. “Is that why you’re here?”

In frustration, Cloud’s eyes briefly grew larger and he grit his teeth. _“Goddammit,_ Cai—Reeve. Reeve,” he corrected himself with a sharp chop of his hand. “You just found out your mom died and your friends are here to help. Could you _please_ just come out and see them?”

“Oh.” Struck, the moment began to settle back in Reeve’s mind and his eyebrows raised. “Oh!”

“‘Oh’?” Cloud repeated in bewilderment.

“Right.” Reeve eased past Cloud down the stairs, mechanically focused on the new task that he had been offered, but his dress shoes slipped on the precarious steps. He half-yelped as the floor jolted closer for an instant.

Cloud caught the back of his collar, and helped steady Reeve at the base of the steps. “Hey, easy…easy.”

Sinking onto the step, Reeve felt his expression twisting in distress. “I…I don’t know if I can.” Losing his footing had been the last his composure could take. Of all the absolutely ridiculous things to break him. Tripping on the stairs? _Really?_ Reeve leaned his head in his hands as his shoulders shook. “Not…Not now…Not like this…”

“Hey…” Cloud slid beside him on the floor. “I’m sorry. Things should’ve been better than this. I know. Things were supposed to be…Well, it was supposed to feel better than this to save the world, right?”

“I can’t,” Reeve groaned, tears welling in his eyes. “None of you even know me. You’ve known…nothing but…some other face I put on for you all.”

Silence passed. “…Are you screwing with me right now?”

Taking shaky breaths, Reeve shifted his watery eyes toward Cloud. 

Cloud grimaced and gestured to himself meaningfully. “Do you… _remember_ who you’re talking to?”

A strained laugh tumbling from him, Reeve half-smiled. “The master of his own illusionary world.”

“More than that…there’s something else. Did you forget?”

Rubbing his face again, pushing aside moisture with his hands, Reeve shrugged and he took deep breaths. “Forget…what?”

“You’re surrounded by orphans, Reeve.” This had been a new voice, feminine and gentle.

Reeve raised his head, and his jaw went slack to see all of his renegade companions in the remains of his family’s home. The four-legged warrior with red fur and a flickering tail, the young ninja with a broad smile and a bob cut, the willowy figure in black and red lingering near the shadows, the captain in a well-worn flight jacket leaning against a spear, the towering, broad-shouldered revolutionary with a replacement arm, the young woman in sporty gear who gleamed at Reeve genuinely.

“All of us,” Tifa reminded him.

“I am grateful all of you are with me,” Nanaki began in a gentle voice. “I finally am mourning Se—m-my father…and Grandfather. I don’t know how I would have managed without you all.”

Yuffie sighed heavily and sat on a pile of rubble, propping her jaw on her palm. “I don’t remember my mom. But I remember what it was like without her. And what it did to my dad. So, I get it, I guess.”

Lighting a cigarette, a distant, weary smile came to Cid. “I lost my old man a while ago. But…he only got to see me screwin’ up my chance at space. Knowin’ I can’t tell him I finally made it there…” He raised his eyebrows once and glumly shook his head. “Shit, it brings it all back.”

Vincent glanced away. “…Even if any of my family is alive, the man they knew is dead. I can’t possibly return after so many years.”

Patting Vincent’s shoulder, Barret shook his head. “Think about it, at least. Hell, I’d do _anything_ to have my grandparents back…no matter how long it’s been. Thank goodness it wasn’t Shinra that took ‘em. I woulda never come back from the kinda hell I woulda made for myself.”

Idly, Cloud tapped his heel of his combat boots on the floorboards. “Five years of my life is missing…so…losing Mom feels…fresh. Raw. Like it happened less than a year ago.”

“Oh, Cloud…That’s right,” Tifa said sadly, moving aside strands of Cloud’s blonde spines from his forehead. “I’m so sorry. It was the smoke, right? Sephiroth didn’t…?”

Cloud closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his mouth forming a thin line. “…No, he did.”

“Yeah…” Tifa whispered bitterly. “Like Dad.” She wearily sat next to Cloud, leaning her head against his shoulder, then added a tired grin to Reeve. “I wish I could say it gets better quickly, Reeve. But I lost Mom when I was eight…it still hurts. And Dad…I really don’t think that’s _ever_ going to be better.”

“I had so many images in my head about how this meeting was supposed to go,” Reeve said dryly. His eyes had locked on a particularly noticeable scuff mark on his shoe, and he couldn’t look away from it. “Not like this…”

“There have been a _million_ days I would’ve liked to meet everybody here than when you did,” Cid chuckled with a heavy roll of his eyes. “But sometimes ya meet somebody on a day when yer at your worst and yer screamin’ at them to shut up and drink tea—tea I didn’t even make you myself!” he groaned, rubbing his face self-consciously. _“Goddamn,_ it still makes me sick to my stomach to think about.”

Vincent grinned. “Was that better or worse than complaining to go back to sleep?”

“Oh, shut up!” Yuffie cackled, leaning forward against her knees. “At least these jerks bothered to ask you your names. They said for me to tag along and then made me scream after them! ‘Oh, don’t worry about me. I’m just gonna be your best friend, don’t bother asking anything about me, I guess! I’ll just shout small talk at you from twenty feet away, okay?’”

Cloud shook his head and held up a hand, smiling largely. “No, no, no. You don’t get to say that. You made it clear you were ready to run off if we _looked_ at you the wrong way.”

 _“I_ was a delicate flower all alone in the cruel wilderness,” she scoffed, placing her hands on her chest in mock dismay. “How could I possibly have trusted you weirdos instantly?”

Tifa’s shoulders shook from giggles. “And you followed us anyway?”

“You had cool materia.”

Laughter followed, and Reeve felt himself joining in. “Oh, if we’re tellin’ these stories, did Cloud and Aerith tell ye how Aye muscled _my_ way in? Bloody _master_ of deception, Aye was. The Turks told me it’d never work, but they didn’t count on ye bein’ a buncha roasters. How did it take all of ye wee bawbags so long to see through that utter shite?”

The laughter in the room intensified tenfold. Several of the group pointed at Reeve as their faces lit up in excitement. At their reactions, Reeve started and gaped at them in bewilderment.

 _“There_ he is!” Yuffie squealed happily. “I don’t believe it!”

Vincent allowed a very rare, genuine smile, letting out the softest of snickers. “You mean that accent _wasn’t_ a fabrication?”

“Cait Sith don’t have a mouth on him, though,” Barret said through booming laughs. “I don’t know what the _hell_ you just called me, but I take offense—whatever it was.”

His face hot, Reeve straightened his collar sheepishly. “Excuse me. Got carried away. I don’t usually…”

“Get carried away!” Tifa insisted, her face bright. “Whenever you want, please.”

“The second I can, I am getting you _trashed,”_ Cid announced. “Highland folk are the _best_ assholes to get drunk with.”

“Like you could keep pace, Highwind,” Reeve said with a grin.

“That is a _challenge,_ and I _win_ either way.”

A thought occurred to Reeve, and he held up a hand. “Wait, wait. Before I forget…Shera wanted me to ask what you said to her.”

Abruptly, Cid’s face turned a violent shade of crimson and he plucked his cigarette from his mouth. He rolled it between his fingers, fidgeting his shoulders as he searched for words. “Well, shit…Now? I hadn’t planned to announce anythin’ yet. I mean, I didn’t even have a ring or anything…” He grinned shyly.

“Did you ask her to marry you?!” both Tifa and Yuffie shrieked simultaneously, causing everyone else to spin on them.

“Yes?!” Cid barked back in a knee-jerk reaction. “Holy shit, gimme a heart attack!”

Glowing enthusiasm and jubilant celebration overtook the group instantly, everyone jumping their feet to offer their congratulations. As levity and eager conversation passed through the husk of a living room, Reeve glanced between his companions. For the first time he was seeing these colorful outcasts with his own eyes, hearing their voices, being a part of their overwhelming energy. There were so many facets of them he had never seen before: how the beads in Nanaki’s mane had a lyrical chime to them as they rattled, the way Yuffie’s eyes all but vanished into her cheeks when her smile widened, the way direct light brought a coppery tint to Tifa’s dark-brown hair, the surprisingly pleasant, spiced scent of Cid’s cigarettes, the varied nuances of red in Vincent’s eyes as they moved, how Barret’s grin shone against his richly-toned skin, and the subtle shyness in Cloud’s melodic voice. None of the tiny details had come through Cait Sith, not even when Reeve exclusively used his knack. Reeve had spent so much time looking through someone else’s eyes, filtering experiences and missing the little things.

But now Reeve was _there._ He was present. His friends had sought him out, and they welcomed him in their reality. He was grateful to Cait Sith for this chance, and certainly Cait would never be retired for good, but there was no comparing the sensation of being Reeve Tuesti in this moment. For everything Reeve had to dread, for every loss and every approaching challenge, he could look forward to this. They would _be_ there. He wouldn’t have to seek companionship with distant dreams and readouts. He would see with his own eyes.

* * *

The knock on the door immediately broke Marlene’s pouting. She leapt from the floor, knocking crayons into the air as she scrambled to the door.

Elmyra nearly stopped her out of habit, but managed to collect herself instantly. There was nothing on the other side of that door to fear. They were finally safe. Elmyra smiled to herself in contentment.

As Marlene threw open the front door, a cheerful cry of delight met her. “Marlene!” Tifa said, flinging her arms around Marlene and immediately sweeping her off the ground. _“Look_ at you, how are you so big?!”

“Daddy said that,” Marlene giggled, clinging to Tifa tightly.

Snickering, Tifa shook her head. “Oh, oh, okay. Only Daddy is allowed to notice you’re bigger. Okay.”

“Ms. Gainsborough,” Barret greeted as he stepped in. “Thank you for agreeing to this, but I don’t…think it was clear just how many people would be here tonight.”

As a small, garish army filed into the parlor, Elmyra’s smile faded awkwardly. “Oh. Oh, no, you didn’t make it clear at _all.”_

A young Wutaian girl immediately propped herself on the back of the loveseat instead of in it, like a coiled spring ready to snap at any moment. The tall, slender woman in a crimson, tattered cape was a bit distressing—wait, no, that was a man. A man carrying a very, very large gun in a holster around Marlene. And was that a cat? They were just _bringing_ that giant animal in the house? Why was its tail _on fire?_ Would that burn anything?

Marlene let out a fearful shriek at the sight of the lupine cat, burying her face into Tifa’s shoulder. As Marlene began weeping, Tifa’s face went pale and she gaped at the beast. “Oh—No, no, no, Marlene, that’s Nanaki! He’s our friend. He’s not going to hurt you.” She added in a harsh whisper, “I’m so sorry, Nanaki. Don’t take it personally.”

Elmyra started when the beasts’ mouth opened, and in a well-spoken young man’s voice he wearily sighed, “It’s fine. I’m used to it.”

Nanaki…Elmyra recognized the name now, and recognized where the beaded hairpin Marlene had received must have come from. Sinking on the couch in shock, Elmyra mumbled, “Oh. Oh, he talks…”

“I don’t think so,” Barret said sternly, taking Marlene from Tifa. “That is _not_ how we act. You apologize to Nanaki right now, Marlene.”

Sobbing louder, Marlene shook her head wildly.

Awkwardly, Nanaki began to slink to a further corner of the house. “It’s quite alright. Human children act that way.”

“Marlene!” Barret pressed. “He has feelings just like you and you’re hurting them cuz _you_ don’t know how to act. Didn’t you just hear him talk to you? Hm?”

Her blubbering subsiding, Marlene dragged her gaze back to Nanaki. “Muh…?”

Clearly uncomfortable, Nanaki raised his good eye toward her. “Hello, Marlene. I’ve…heard a lot about you,” he said in a silken, rumbling tone. “I’m sorry your gift probably doesn’t fit yet. I have a hard time gauging the sizes of human children by age alone.”

Wiping her eyes, Marlene sniffed sloppily. Barret eased her into the crook of his right arm to use his hand to clean her face. “Go say you’re sorry.”

Barret set her down, and very cautiously Marlene approached Nanaki, sniffing heavily. With very subtle movements, Nanaki lowered his head closer to the floor, allowing her to rest her hands on his mane. “N…Nuh-nah-kee?” she mumbled, stroking her fingers through the soft strands.

“You don’t just touch without _asking,_ Marlene!” Barret huffed in frustration. “I raised her better than this, I promise.”

“It’s fine,” Nananki assured him. 

Something finally clicking in Marlene’s head, she quickly withdrew her hands and whipped them behind her back. “I’m sorry! You’re a person. I’m sorry I hurt your feelings, sir.”

A motion like a smile turned Nanaki’s snout. “I am not…but thank you. You’re very polite, Marlene.”

“Can…Can I pet you, Mr. Nanaki?”

While Tifa laughed softly, Barret let out a ragged sigh and waved a hand dismissively. 

Nanaki nodded gently. “You may,” he said.

Marlene hesitantly pet the reddish fur, a smile growing across her face. She then leaned fully against Nanaki, both arms around him, nearly pushing him off-balance. Nanaki chuckled and adjusted himself. Marlene’s head then rose and her gaze met with Vincent’s piercing, red eyes. She sank further into Nanaki and let out a long whine into his fur as she buried her face in him completely—fearful whimpering starting anew.

Rubbing his face wearily, Barret heaved out an aggravated breath. “Marlene, what are ya doin’ to me? You’re puttin’ me in an early grave, child.”

Another knock at the door signaled yet another arrival. Elmyra supposed that was Reeve. “Tifa, would you get that?”

Tifa opened it to allow Captain Cid Highwind to stroll into the house. Despite knowing the _Highwind_ had parked outside Kalm, Elmyra hadn’t honestly thought she would have its captain in her parlor.

Cid glanced around and paused, then quickly backstepped to thoroughly wipe his boots on the doormat before reentering. “Evening, ma’am. You must be Mrs. Gainsborough.”

“Captain Highwind,” she said with an affirming nod. “Goodness, you look just like you did on the posters…”

Grinning, Cid offered a gloved hand. “I got nuthin’ but good sides and they got ‘em right, what can I say?”

Elmyra laughed lightly. And he was every bit as charming as she’d imagined. “Is…Is Mr. Tuesti not coming?” Elmyra asked, accepting the handshake he offered her.

“He is,” Cid said with a shrug. “He’s just got things he’s got to take care of before he can get away. Bein’ all that’s left of Shinra leadership means wherever he stops officials will wanna talk first. He should be here soon.”

Elmyra’s smile faded. “Hasn’t earned the rest then yet, has he?”

“None of us,” Cid chuckled. “That’s just life.” He then turned and moved to where Nanaki layed curled up in the middle of the floor, Marlene draped over him. “And you must be Marlene. Well, lookit you!”

She smiled up at him brightly. “Hello, sir.”

“Captain,” he insisted, kneeling next to her. He then half-smiled up at Barret. “Takes after Mom then…?”

In an instant, Barret’s brow hardened and he glowered at Cid.

“Cid!” Vincent hissed.

Yuffie groaned loudly, flinging her palms in his direction. “Are you _serious,_ Cid?”

“Shit!” Cid blurted, slapping a hand to his forehead. “I forgot. You told me and I forgot like a goddamn idiot. Shit on me!”

“Stop cussin’ in front of her face. Y’all are _really_ tryin’ me tonight,” Barret grumbled, rolling his eyes largely while Marlene cackled with glee.

As the others playfully poked at each other, Cloud paused in front of Elmyra. “Hey.”

She looked up at him, marveling at how much Cloud had changed. It was difficult to pin down, but she recalled him reminding her so much of Zack when they first met—just infinitely more dour…Somehow all of that had vanished, and the young man in a SOLDIER uniform in front of her now was unique. Singularly Cloud. His posture, the manner with which his vibrantly-blue eyes shifted idly…it was hard to say. Maybe Aerith had seen the difference sooner too…Elmyra just hoped Aerith hadn’t wasted all her time chasing ghosts.

“Yes, Cloud?” 

He glanced at the others, then motioned for Elmyra to step aside with him.

Feeling what was coming, Elmyra half-smiled and joined him by the stairs. “What is it, dear?”

“Reeve…told us that he told you what happened.”

Nodding wearily, she folded her arms across her chest. “Yes. He was here the morning after.”

“That’s…Wow, that was sooner than I expected,” Cloud mumbled, looking away. “I just wanted to say how sorry I am. I’m sorry.”

“I know,” Elmyra said in a low voice, patting his right shoulder. “Just to be clear, I don’t blame any of you. I did for a while, but I know better than that. There was no one who could force her to do something she didn’t want to do. I don’t blame you. Okay?”

Cloud’s face softened, and distantly he sighed. “I…She mattered a lot to me. To all of us.”

“She had that way of prying herself into everyone’s lives, didn’t she?”

A knowing smirk tugged at Cloud’s lips. “She did. There was no way for her to not…affect people.”

To Cloud’s surprise, Elmyra hugged him gently. “All of you mattered to her too.”

Stunned by her gesture, Cloud cleared his throat as they parted. “Uh…yeah. Just…Just I feel like it shouldn’t have had to have been Reeve to tell you. It almost doesn’t feel fair.”

“Things were less than ideal.”

Raising his eyebrows once, Cloud smirked. “Yeah…You could say that. So, before he gets here, I feel like I should return the favor.” His gentle face grew solemn and he bit his lip once before continuing. “Something just happened to him earlier today he probably won’t want to say out loud but…but it’ll help if you know, okay?”

Her expression tightened, and she gestured for him to go on. “What happened?”

Cloud took a deep breath, then firmly locked his gaze with hers.

* * *

It was several hours later when Reeve finally arrived at the house, finding Cid sitting on the stoop and enjoying a cigarette.

“She wouldn’t let you smoke inside?” Reeve asked with a grin.

“I’m not a goddamn heathen,” Cid grunted. “What, no honor guard, Mr. Senior Director?”

Reeve smirked at Cid. “I don’t need security breathing down my neck at my own house. All of you are more effective anyway.”

“There is also _not_ enough room for all of us to crash,” Cid informed him.

“I tried to tell you all.”

“Eh,” he said with a shrug. “I got the _Highwind.”_

“Of course.”

Taking a deep drag, Cid waved him on. “Well, go on, then. Door’s unlocked.”

Reeve eased himself through the door, greeted by the group packing the parlor. While there was little time left, exhaustion clear on all their faces, Reeve got to spend the last of the evening with all of them. 

Then came the almost military-level strategy necessary to divy up sleeping spaces. Vincent ultimately agreed to join Cid back on the _Highwind,_ Barret would be on the floor next to Marlene’s bed, Nanaki was fine on the rug in the parlor, Tifa and Cloud would share the largest bedroom, and Elmyra would take the smaller bedroom across from Marlene’s. Reeve volunteered himself for the sofa in the living room, and by pushing chairs against the loveseat it was big enough for Yuffie’s gangly legs.

As lights shut off through the house one by one, Reeve and Elmyra found themselves the last to turn in. They sat at the kitchen table, cups of herbal tea in front of them and a single lamp illuminating the space. The porch doors were open on this mild night, shedding that end of the room in silvery moonlight.

Elmyra rested her chin against her palm, gazing at the starlit, mundane sky. “I had started to get used to that damn thing being there.”

“It was so much worse in Midgar,” Reeve said tiredly. “I don’t know if you could hear it from here, but it made a noise.”

“It did?”

“It let out this hum, for one. A never-ending base. Then there was like, a…crackling. Not like fire, though. A log fire is soothing, this was…I can’t even describe it,” he sighed. “Wait, that’s what it was. Like stepping on bugs. Just a crunching, crackling, popping sound…”

Elmyra’s lip curled. “Are you serious?”

“There was nothing natural about it, so it didn’t even sound natural.”

“I cannot believe how grateful I am that you got us out of there,” Elmyra mumbled, shuddering once. “Did I ever thank you?”

Reeve smiled. “Often.”

“Well, thank you again.”

“I…wasn’t exactly doing you a favor.”

Mirthlessly, Elmyra turned to look at him with a lowered eyebrow. “Reeve. You can claim an awful lot of things, but you can’t even remotely claim that. Of course you were. I might not be as clever as you or your friends, but I’m not an idiot.”

He held up a hand quickly. “I never said that!”

She nodded. “No, no you’ve never suggested that. I…”

“Well…” Yawning deeply, Reeve rubbed his face. “Another couch awaits. I probably should stop doing this to myself.”

“Wait,” Elmyra said quickly, resting her hand on his before he could lift it from his cup.

Reeve paused and lowered an eyebrow at her. “Yes?”

Clearing her throat gently, she firmly placed her other hand on his and held it tightly. “Meteor has changed everything.”

“I know.” Reeve shrugged slightly. “I didn’t ask for the position I’m in…But I can’t walk away now.”

Swallowing once, Elmyra squeezed his hand. “Cloud…told me,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry about Ruby.”

Reeve’s face visibly fell and he stared into his empty teacup. “Oh. Uh. Yes.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss, Reeve. She was such a wonderful lady.”

Clearing his throat, Reeve’s eyes grew exponentially more haggard. “I don’t think it’s…really sunk in yet. I don’t know how I feel.”

“That’s more normal than you think. And it gets worse.”

Raising his eyebrows and grimacing, Reeve looked back to her. “That’s…not reassuring.”

“It’s not,” she agreed, patting his hand. “But it’s fair warning.”

“…That is fair.” He slid his hand from her, sinking further into his chair. “It’s not as though I don’t remember what my father passing away was like, but it was different. It wasn’t so sudden. We had a lot of time to get comfortable with the idea.” Anxiously, he tugged at his collar. “No, ‘comfortable’ is the wrong word…”

“I know what you meant,” she assured him.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Reeve pulled himself up. “Thank you. You’ve done so much…”

She smiled up at him. “I don’t think it’s been nearly enough. You realize what this means, don’t you?”

Reeve shrugged as Elmyra stood and cleaned off the table. “No?”

“You’re all my kids now,” she informed him as she rinsed off the cups casually.

A surprised chuckle falling out of him, Reeve followed her to the sink. “I beg your pardon?”

“From what I hear,” she continued, drying off the cups and saucers with a flowered dish towel, “the lot of you have maybe one mother between you. So, it looks like I’m now your mom, and I’m not hearing any arguments about it.”

“You’re…maybe twelve years older than me.”

“And you look like the kind of grown man who still has to be told to eat vegetables.”

Blinking, Reeve scoffed. “I…eat vegetables.”

“Lettuce on burgers doesn’t count.”

“Stir fry counts.”

“Not if it’s greasy takeout, it doesn’t.”

He opened his mouth to speak, then gradually closed it with a half-smile. “I don’t appreciate being called out like this.”

“And how many nights have you been sleeping on couches?” she asked with a knowing grin.

“Uh…I’ve…lost count recently.”

“Tonight you’re taking a bed. I can handle a sofa once in a while.”

“Elmyra, I volunteered…”

“And I’m un-volunteering you,” Elmyra said firmly. “Goodness, she was right. All of you are a mess,” she said with a deep yawn as she walked to the stairs. “If anything, she _understated_ this trainwreck.”

“Wait…” Reeve urged her to continue. “Who said?”

Elmyra paused at the door frame, smiling over her shoulder at him. “You know who I mean, don’t be silly. Goodnight, Reeve,” she said gently, turning away.

As silence fell over the kitchen, Reeve turned off the lamp. His way shown by a starry, moonlit night, Reeve took quiet steps to the porch, and leaned against the railing. 

That coy grin on Elmyra had reminded Reeve of Aerith, to the point where it was hard to imagine she and Elmyra weren’t actually related by blood. But there was something about family that didn’t need blood, wasn’t there? This house was home, and not only because it had belonged to the Tuestis. It was the ship resting at the outskirts of Kalm, and it was the bizarre mishmash of friends packed in too-few beds inside. It was the quiet of a night that belied the uncertainty of the days to come, and the moonlight falling on flowers transplanted from a city that would have drained them of life.

Transplanted just like those inside the house. Reeve closed the porch doors and made his way to a bed. 

  
  


**The End**

To be Continued in Days of Advent

* * *

Since this is the last chapter of this leg of the story, I wanted to put some notes at the very end here. Thank you for joining me on this journey, _Through Another_ _’_ _s Eyes_ has been something I had wanted to write since the late 90’s, but had never had the drive to complete. I hope that even those who aren’t as die-hard Reeve fans as myself can still enjoy this story.

Chapter 14 is dedicated to every player who sat in front of a star field and waited for a better resolution. This is the kind of end I would have wanted for the original game. Of course, it also keeps in mind a nod to _On the Way to a Smile: Denzel._ Doing my research for this story, the second I came upon Ruvie’s death, I knew exactly what had to happen, and that this very strange group bonding over it was the most logical conclusion.

Those around Midgar assuming the first outbreak of Geostigma had something to do with Meteor made sense to me, so until they know otherwise Meteor Crash is their working title. Marlene not taking well to some of her father’s friends at first was one of my favorite interactions to write. I used to work at theme parks, and I’d see young kids having extreme reactions to things all the time. The way Barret talks while having none of it this time is taken from the various parents I’ve known. There is a certain tone some parents take when they refuse to accept their kid’s outbursts.

The feeling of more to do that comes with this chapter is certainly not accidental. I am planning to continue this story, and my drive to write fanfic in 2020 is more for what comes after Through Another’s Eyes than this leg of the story itself. Regardless of if you agree with me, I see my home country of America as a clearly failing democracy, and stepping into Gaia has been much-needed catharsis. The story that will follow is the more difficult part of a story, one that is often glossed over, and the one I want to write the most: rebuilding and redefining what society means.

Gaia must come to terms with a world that must move past mako, and honestly does not need even a reformed Shinra. I am not very forgiving of oligarchies, and much of SquareEnix’s hand-waving of Shinra’s crimes against humanity is not satisfactory to me. I do hope you’ll join me and this version of Gaia as I present what I believe is truly necessary for a world like this to heal. Cloud and his team beyond Reeve will have a much bigger role, though as the founder of the WRO I still plan to heavily lean on Reeve’s work post-Meteor.

That been said, this last chapter was posted on August 25, 2020, and I’m taking a short break from regular posting while I gather some thoughts and focus on some drawing. Follow me and you’ll be notified when I start posting the next leg of the story, Days of Advent. In the meantime, I will be posting a one-shot, and any of my fics can be considered in the _Days of Advent_ AU unless I state otherwise. Feel free to read those while you wait.

I also make the earnest plea for those of you who have enjoyed my work to do me a very sincere favor: share _Through Another’s Eyes_ or any of my other works. It costs nothing to share, and I freely admit the support would mean the world to be and give me the encouragement I’ll need during my break. Seeing that others are actually enjoying what I do helps keep me going.

Hear from you all soon, and thank you again!


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